Stellaluna

Dia dan aku bagaikan bintang dan bulan. Dia yang walau bersinar dengan mengandalkan cahaya orang lain, tetap bisa bersinar terang di langit malam yang gelap. Sedangkan aku hanyalah bintang kecil yang berusaha bersinar dengan cahayaku sendiri, yang kadang masih terus kalah dari langit malam yang gelap, dan kehilangan cahaya. Dia berharga bagiku, tapi di sisi lain, aku juga iri dan benci padanya. Pada Sang Bulan yang mampu menyinari langit malam dengan indahnya walau kadang tertutup oleh awan hitam. Ini adalah kisah tentangku, tentang dia, dan takdir yang mengikat kami berdua.

She took the envelope from her black leather jacket’s pocket and a handwritten name in front of it. To: Amelia Stern De Fuller Violet's hands shaking as she opens the envelope and reads the letter. Dear Aunt Amelia, As you read this letter, probably I’m already dead. Please take Lady Violet Rose with you to Castle Quest. She needs her real family. Please do the rightful thing for me. I’m so sorry for everything. Love, Amanda Stern The letter is like a bombshell exploding in front of her, the secret behind the physical features is that she never had any resemblance with the mother that she had for 19 years. She hopes to shed light on her real identity, the hope of her dream of having a family, a loving and caring family that she never had, the missing pieces of her existence that Amanda failed to provide. But who is Amelia Stern De Fuller? And where is Castle Quest? Who is my real family? Authors Message: Hello Lovely Readers! Thank you for taking this quest with me and with our beloved Lady Violet Rose. Let’s collect the pieces of the puzzle of her life together from the beginning until the end of her journey. Let’s all dig in with the chapters of drama, romance, her enemies, her struggles, and her family. Happy Reading! Love, L_stellaluna

The sound of guns... The darkness... The smoke... Then, oblivion. Everyday, I am haunted by my nightmares. Everytime the thunder roll and lightning strikes, I shivered. Looking outside my window, I am writing my daily journal and poetry today... To release all the pains and tensions from my past. And I wrote.. December 18, 1980 Myshkin, Russia My beloved, Have you ever ask yourself... What's your life purpose? If.. Are you doing the right thing? Are you on the verge of confusion, loneliness, unhappiness and being stagnant? Day dreaming into your own world? Too much questions filled in your heart and mind. Too much of everything that you don't want. Too much! To clear out my confusion and to have more clarity about myself, I dig deeper inside me. Reminiscing my childhood moments and cherish them. Facing the darkest and painful moments of my memories. Those memories of repeating horror, memories of loss, memories of death. Yes, I did face it all. I cried hard. After decades of those patterned memories... This is the first time that I realized.. How I treated myself so badly. And I really wanted to give back to myself. By appreciating my past. Appreciate yourself more... Love yourself more... And you will discover more... I have discovered each words, all feelings, expression, harmony just fits well to take steps in writing this poem for my past. ***A LETTER FOR MY PAST SELF*** My dearest self in the past... I have been visiting you lately in a vast... You are carefree, immature and FEARLESS, You go out more, loving the sun and grasses, Full of sweat and sun-kissed from above. Joyous days, feet touching stones and green Oh How glorious those days have been Flowing like water in every storms within And wind touches, caressing my skin Telling me, It's ok dear, everything has it's purpose". A path full of journey and a dead rose All those rise and fall, I am with you... All those tears and laughter, I am with you... I am always with you til the end of time. You have no choice, we are both destined. Oh loving sun and dreamy moon, Grace us the light in our path divine, My past self, I thank you! For the wonderful memories... In my troubled present, found peace in you. Beatrix ********************************************** As I closed my journal... I just hear my Nana's footsteps and call out. "My princess, it's dinner time. Don't forget your coat, it's a bit freezing today!." "Yes, coming Nana!." I checked myself in the mirror for the last time, before sharing the table with Nana. The beauty in the mirror speaks of simplicity and elegance. I'm tall at my age of 15, around 183cm, with soft silver wavy hair and emerald green eyes. I'm looking at the reflection of my mother. And before my tears fall. "Beatrix?" A hint of annoyance in Nanas voice. "Yes, sorry Nana." Then, we silently eat our beetroot soup. In the same month, in different year. Our mother gather all of us, her children, near the fireplace hearth, made of granite and marble stone. My eldest brother Maxim played the piano while my older sister Annika played the flute. While me and my mom, cheerfully singing. Then, our beloved father Dimitri, joined us in our joyfulness. Amidst our liveliness, the commotion outside the House of Oblonsky raised our fears. People shouting with torches and guns. My father Dimitri was stunned. I'm crying in horror. I hugged my father...for the last time. When.... My small voice... bellowed "NO!!!!" "Mama, Papa..." "Maxim, Annika..."