A Star's Oath

by Sissi Kenedi

My dear Hazel,

By the time you read this letter, I’d have left this world. Please do not feel sadness for me. I’ve lived a great life. I’ve seen things that others will never see again in their lifetimes.

Let me tell you about something. This wonderful thing called nature.

Nature used to be everywhere when I was little. Grass used to be so green it shimmered like emeralds under the sunlight. Trees used to be so tall and lush they towered over us like earthy giants. Air smelled like fresh blooming flowers. Every time I stepped foot outside, it was like I was engulfed in a symphony led by the songs of birds. It was so, so ethereal.

I just wish you and your mother could have seen it with me.

My generation has failed to preserve nature. If I could wish for anything, it would be for nature to return to us. I cannot imagine living in a world without life.

But what can I, a feeble, ill-stricken lady, do? The most your old grandmother can pass down to you is a necklace. Your grandfather gave me this pearl necklace when he proposed to me. It’s my most prized belonging. He loved the ocean and he rests there now, peacefully. I can only hope my final resting place is the beautiful sea as well.

I just wish you could have seen a coral reef once. Just once. I know you would have loved it. I knew it the moment you were born with those sea-blue eyes of yours.

Remember, Hazel, that nature existed. Please don’t forget about the wonders our world has given us.

If you ever do miss me, look up at the brightest star. I’ll be watching over you from above.

With lots of love,
Grandma

#

“When are you gonna get a real job?”

It always started like this. Every time I visited my parents on the first Sunday of every month.

“I have a real job,” I said, unbothered as I sorted through the groceries I bought for them.

My father clicked his tongue from across the room. I didn’t have to turn my head to know he was sprawled out on the couch in a sea of coke and beer bottles with a VR headset on.

“Your father is right, you know,” my mother added from the other couch, eyes not once looking up from her phone. “Water testing or whatever you scientists do in that dump is a waste of time.” A TikTok audio blasted, making me flinch slightly as she chuckled and scrolled on.

It’s marine biology, I thought, but didn’t say out loud. It’s not like they knew what that was. After all, marine life was mostly gone.

I shoved the groceries into the fridge and took out the garbage filled with alcohol cans. I opened the dishwasher to a pile of dirty dishes with mold on the edges.

I inhaled sharply. “Can you guys please use the dishwasher properly?” I asked. “You’re going to ruin it if you keep using it like this.”

My mother answered. “Oh we don’t use that anymore.”

I turned around, finally facing them. “What? Do you know how much this cost me?”

“It’s so much work,” she groaned, her acrylic nails clacking against the phone screen as she
typed a ridiculous comment. “Just get us single-use plates from now on.”

I opened my mouth to respond but was interrupted by the sound of my father’s belch. “Sorry,” he grumbled, “had too many beans last night.”

I closed my eyes and sighed, before moving to grab my purse. I couldn’t stay here any longer.

“I’m getting rid of everything in the attic tomorrow.”

I froze hearing that. “What?”

She went back to scrolling.

“You can’t do that,” I said, feeling my face heat up, “all of Grandma and Grandpa’s belongings are there.”

“They’re useless.”

I glared at her. “They’re all I have left from them.”

My mother scoffed. “So what? They’re dead. Start caring about your mother more.”

I bit my tongue.

You’ll never be a mother to me. You’re nothing compared to my grandmother.

My grandparents raised me.

I grabbed my purse and headed for the door.

“Ungrateful child,” I heard my mother grumble as I shut the door.

I really, really missed my grandparents.

#

I sat on the floor of my grandparents’ attic with an opened letter from my grandmother and three pictures in hand.

I stared at the last sentence, written in her beautiful cursive handwriting.

If you ever do miss me, look up at the brightest star. I’ll be watching over you from above.

If only my grandmother knew that stars existed solely in movies.

They were long gone. Maybe. Maybe not. I didn’t know what was under the foggy clouds that covered our skies.

I pulled out the pictures. Three physical, printed pictures. It’s been a while.

I couldn’t help but feel tears well in my eyes when I saw the contents of the pictures.

I envied my grandparents’ relationship, really. It was a love-story straight out of a movie. He got her her favorite pink tulips, she baked him his favorite chocolate cake. He proposed with a pearl necklace. They got married on the beach-side under a sunset.

What a wonderful life, I thought.

A piece of paper slipped out from between the pictures.

For our lovely Hazel:
-0.270480, 130.419940

It was my grandfather’s handwriting. I immediately looked up the coordinates.

Indonesian islands…?

Was that their last surprise for me?

#

I leaned against the window of the plane, staring at the endless sea below.

If you could call it a sea, that is.

There was an island with an eerily dull hue in the center. It was one of the many garbage patches in the ocean, a testament to our negligence. That was our supposed ‘solution’ to plastic dumping. Instead of having pieces of garbage floating around, we created designated piles for them. How convenient.

I traced my finger around the island, imaging how life would be like below the surface. The
destruction, the chaos…the fear from all those animals. The suffocating feeling of being wrapped in a web of plastic that tore through flesh and poisoned millions. The haunting feeling that no matter how much you cried out, you were forgotten to the world.

“Mom?”

A child’s voice from the row above snapped me out of my trance.

“What’re those?” I saw a little hand point out the window.

“Those are dumps,” the mother answered, “that’s where all our waste goes.”

“But why is it in the ocean?” The boy frowned. “It looks so ugly.”

The mother smiled. “It’ll go away soon. There’s people taking care of the ocean.”

“Oh.” I envied the child’s innocence. “That means it’ll look like this soon, right?”

He pointed to his tablet where a vibrant scene with two snorkelers from a movie set in the 2100s played. I loved that film. It was the first time I saw the famous “coral reef” my grandmother was talking about.

“I wanna go see it,” he muttered, eyes shining.

The mother’s smile faltered a little as she brushed a lock of hair out of the boy’s face. “One day, we’ll see it for real.”

One day.

I let that sink in for the rest of the flight.

#

Marine biology was a dying field.

I didn’t want to admit it because I was a marine biologist, but it was a difficult truth. Every day, I saw fewer students enrolling, fewer applications, fewer glimmers of hope in the eyes of those who once dreamed exploring the depths of our oceans.

Humans are great at ruining things.

We only have 20% of trees that stood tall and proud in the 2100s. We did nothing about
deforestation. The skies could only weep silently as it turned a darker shade of gray each year.

Agriculture is no longer grown with the warmth of natural sunlight or the magic in nature’s soil. Instead, we cultivate crops in towering greenhouses that stretch above buildings. We called it progress, but who were we trying to fool except ourselves?

The ocean was our last natural phenomenon, yet we still managed to destroy most of it. Once flourishing with life, it now lay desolate and barren, like a graveyard of bleached corals and empty shells from the species that had gone extinct.

I still remember the story my grandmother told me about the last living coral reef. It was a small patch, but it clung onto life desperately and was a miracle to the world. Scientists from around the world documented and studied and took samples back to labs to analyze, but in the end it succumbed to an unauthorized oil dumping.

From that day on, coral reefs became history to the world.

#

I never believed in fate, but what I saw that day changed everything.

It was the third night of my visit to Indonesia. The air was humid and the sun had already dipped below the horizon.

The coordinates my grandparents left me led me to a secluded cove. The tranquility scared me at first, but I was driven by a determination and curiosity I didn’t know I had in me. I felt a strange sense of belonging.

The sound of crashing waves guided me through the curtains of dense mangroves until I saw it.

A pristine lagoon with water so clear it sparkled like a glass mosaic under the moonlight.

My heart pounded in my chest as I stepped closer in awe. I wasn’t dreaming.

I was seeing a real-life coral reef.

They still existed…after all these years.

My grandmother’s words echoed in my head.

I know you would have loved it. I knew it the moment you were born with those sea-blue eyes of yours.

I wrapped a hand around her pearl necklace and imagined the warmth of her arms around me.

“I found it, Grandma,” I whispered softly into the sea. I could almost hear my grandmother’s
response.

Look up at the brightest star. I’ll be watching over you from above.

I saw stars for the first time in my life. Who knew they could be so dazzling, so ethereally
beautiful? It was like looking at jewelry from the heavens, with each piece shimmering in their own unique way.

Then, out of nowhere, a shooting star streaked across the sky like a brushstroke completing a masterpiece.

I made a promise to the stars that day.

With the stars as my witness, I vowed to fight for the preservation of our planet’s few remaining natural wonders. It wasn’t just about the reef, it was about ensuring future generations can experience the kind of beauty I was so fortunate enough to find. How could we rob them of this opportunity?

How could we let our children live in a world so lifeless?

It just wasn’t fair.

#

August 13th, 2330

To my beloved grandchild,

If you’re reading this, it means something amazing has happened. Humanity has changed.

Let me tell you about something. This wonderful thing called nature.

We’ve restored it.

Imagine a world where trees tower above, their leaves dancing in the breeze. Rivers run clear and vibrant, filled with fish and life. Meadows are alive with wildflowers. Skies are once again painted with the flight of birds.

This is your reality now, but it hasn’t always been the case.

Cherish this fragile world, my dear. Protect it with all your heart.

Hazel Delmar