Wish Upon A Star

Ariana tries to light another cigarette.  Her hand was shaking so badly she kept fumbling on the lighter.  "Shit!", she tries again.  After five attempts, she finally drags deep on her cigarette. 
She looks across from her balcony to the lush, verdant landscape from the hilly terrain where her house is propped.  The night sky is a dramatic shade of blue-black, the moon hides behind the shadows of feathery clouds, but the stars are out.  She sighs.
As she watches the flickering lights above, her mind brings her to many beautiful nights like this when she was a young girl.  Her mother (God bless her soul) used to say, "Watch out for a falling star Ariana, and make a wish from your heart!"  She would spend many endless nights just looking up at the sky waiting for the elusive 'falling star'.  Until she finally saw one!  She closed her eyes and made a wish; for her Father to come back.
He never did.  Ariana knew since then that wishing for happy endings was just a silly child's play and when she grew up, it was simply a waste of time.

She puffs once more on her cigarette and starts to feel a bit woozy; the pills she took is finally kicking in.  She rubs her hands on her arms, a very chilly night.  She looks at the night sky again and is overcome by a wave of sadness and emptiness.  Her eyes well up with tears.  As tears rush down her face she thinks about life's cruelties and unfairness.  All she has ever wanted was a chance to feel happy.   A small chance of knowing that tomorrow will be a better day.  She hoped for better days all her 34 years, but the days never got better.  She drags on her cigarette and stubs it on a broken crystal ashtray overflowing with cigarette stubs and ashes. 
Ariana turns around and wobbles back inside the room.  What she had imagined to be the room that will bear witness to many nights of bliss and love.  It's dark and empty now as usual; as it had always been.
Just barely a month after her marriage to Ron, and he had been mostly out of the country or in another continent.  She smirks at the thought.  Maybe this time he is finally never coming back. "What was her name?  That bitchy tramp he brought to Paris?  Cathleen?  Catherine? Whatever.  It does not really matter now.  There were just so many women Ariana had lost count.  She feels dizzy and grabs onto the dresser for balance.  Almost there.  She looks at the note she made.  She took a bottle of perfume, Jean Patou.  Ron gave this to her.  She takes a whiff and sprays on her body.  Lovely scent.  She props the note on the bottle.
Ariana walks slowly back to the king size bed and lies down, ignoring the thick burgundy covers.  She fixes her dress making sure that she has not creased the back and she pulls it down a bit.  There.  Perfect.  She is wearing her favorite little black dress, the same little black dress she wore on the night Ron had asked her to marry him.  She looks at the ring in her finger and turns it a few times.  Those were many nights ago when she dreamt of being a perfect wife and a great mother.  And many nights after that, when she learned her ovaries were cystic and that she would be barren.  So long ago, she muses.
Ariana closes her eyes, she feels tired and weak; cold and dehydrated but she ignores that.  She lies still, listening to the soft murmurs of her weak heart.  She imagines the night sky and there are so many stars tonight. "Oh, a falling star!"  She makes a silent wish.  "Take me with you".  She sees the star coming down and lifts her.  She smiles.