The Woman Who Drew the Stars.
Midnight. A small alcove is seen dimly lit. A family fire is causing the light; creating a flickering effect on the rest of this dark world. Almost like it was the only light left in existence. The street was very ordinary it had around eight houses each side of the road and an old post office that had been closed down for what seemed like an eternity. The small town of Dudley was neither nice nor nasty it just seemed to appear at being satisfactory reflecting its residents well. Down past the post office and up passed the houses lived Francesca. The alcove was the entrance to her home and her existence. Francesca was a pretty girl and so was her life and nothing had ever been simpler than that. Or so she thought until the 23rd of April, in which she discovered her life was about to end. Many people had dreamed of the future of what it may or may not hold. If they would be happy, or rich or married. But no one ever imagines the end. What happens then when the lights go out on this world? And why would you? But for Francesca Stone that was closer than anyone would ever hope for.
Imagine your last day to see your family, or your friends or your soulmate. Now imagine what your life would be like if you never even got to see the person you are meant to spend the rest of your life with. What would you want your final image to be? Maybe a new born baby opening its eyes for the first time; or your parents on results day or even the first time you bought your new pet? Francesca’s final image was her mother crying by her bedside wishing for her daughter to be okay.
You see Francesca had be going slowly blind from the age of sixteen; it was no surprise to her but she would never know her final day. When the lights go out one last time and they never come back on again. However I don’t want you to have any misconception of Francesca Stone’s life. This is not a sad story; this is a very happy story in which bad things have happened. She lived a good life and felt everything more than anyone will ever know. She lived more in her eighteen years than others do in a hundred. She laughed and loved and danced and she was everything you could ever wish to be.
Have you ever seen black like the black where you can’t wait to turn the light on? That’s what blindness is. Francesca left Dudley hospital with a grip on her mother’s arm she had never been particularly close with her mother but then again her choices weren’t very ranged with who she would have around her. She looked up to the sky she could feel the sun on her face; she could feel it but she couldn’t see it “I’ll never see the sky again” she thought to herself it was a thought she had but as soon as she said it. She regretted it.
Eleanor McHale