The door burst open. They lower the body to the ground. Even thought they wish it wasn’t true, it is. He’s already gone. They mourn him there, in his room. Not moving for what seemed like ages. Then there was the funeral, short and to the point. Tears were shed. Stories were told. Some people even laughed for the first time in months. But there is no closure. Time passes by, but no one notices how much. His family sits around numbly, trying to fill the void he left. His little brother wakes up each morning, and convinces himself that his brother is still just sleeping behind a closed door. His girlfriend goes into his room, and pulls out his old clothes, trying to cling to whatever essence of him is left. His family makes his favorite dinner, but no one eats. His family is dull, and filled with grief they don’t want anything but their son. The stars are meaningless, the whole planet is forgotten because he filled such a massive space, that it could never be filled again. His brother lies to himself, his girlfriend is hysteric, and his parents don’t know what to do anymore.  No star is worth more. He is gone, and there is nothing left to fill this void. This black emptiness. There is nothing but memories left, and I guess that’s all you really need to continue. I guess that’s all you really need, to deal with a shifted pain.