The Shattered Constellations Between Stars

Chapter 1

In a quiet suburban neighborhood on Earth year 2026, a young couple—both just 16—found themselves swept up in the whirlwind of youthful passion.

These two teenagers are first generation Korean-American, born to South Korean immigrants who settled in America.

Ji Woo and Min Seo had been friends since middle school, their bond deepening year by year until it blossomed into something more. Both had come from difficult homes—his parents constantly fighting, her mother lost in her own world, oblivious to her daughter’s struggles. In each other, they found a refuge, a place where the chaos of life quieted down, if only for a moment.

Min Seo's middle class home was situated in Portland, Oregon, a city known for its lush, green landscapes and proximity to vast natural reserves.

Specifically, she lives in a neighborhood on the outskirts of the city, where suburban life meets the tranquility of nature. Her house is about a 10-minute drive from Forest Park, one of the largest urban forests in the United States.

Ji-woo, on the other hand, lives approximately 15 minutes away from Min-seo’s house, but in the opposite direction, placing him farther from the forest.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” she asked, a nervous smile flickering across her lips, her heart racing with excitement and a hint of anxiety. Deep down, she knew the risks, but with him, everything felt different—safer, as if nothing bad could really happen.

“Come on, it’s just us,” he replied, waving off her concerns with playful confidence that masked an underlying fear neither wanted to acknowledge. “What could possibly go wrong?”

In that moment, they felt invincible, lost in the innocence and recklessness of adolescence, blissfully unaware of the consequences their actions might bring. They laughed and whispered secrets under the cover of night, wrapped up in their own world. But their carefree days came crashing down when she discovered she was pregnant.

His initial excitement quickly spiraled into panic, reality hitting him like a ton of bricks.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he blurted out, pacing in his room, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “What are we going to do?” The weight of a future they weren’t prepared for pressed down on him.

“I don’t know,” she replied, her heart racing as she watched him. “But we can figure this out together. We have to.” She tried to sound hopeful, but doubt gnawed at the edges of her resolve.

As the reality of impending fatherhood set in, he became overwhelmed, unable to cope. He started avoiding her; messages grew shorter, and their late-night talks dwindled. The weight of responsibility was too much for him.

“You can’t just leave!” she shouted, desperation threading through her voice as he turned away, his back rigid. “We’re in this together!”

“I can’t handle this!” he shot back, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed painfully in her ears long after he was gone, a reminder of how utterly alone she felt.

Left heartbroken and overwhelmed, she fell into a deep depression. Days turned into weeks as she struggled to find her footing in this new, terrifying reality. At night, she would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling the emptiness beside her where he used to be.

“What’s wrong with me?” she often whispered to her reflection in the mirror, the bags under her eyes betraying her sleepless nights. “Why did I let it get this far?”

Feeling trapped, she spiraled into a vortex of anger, sadness, and despair. Her mother, who had never offered support, only made things worse. “You made your bed; now lie in it,” she would say coldly, offering no comfort, no advice.

“I can’t do this,” she said, slumping against her bedroom wall, feeling more like a child than ever. “I’m just a kid myself.”

Thoughts of abortion flickered through her mind like dark clouds, but something inexplicable—a force she couldn’t understand—held her back. Whenever she tried to make the call, her hand hesitated, a strange warmth spreading through her chest.

“Is this really what I want?” she wondered aloud, clutching her stomach as if trying to connect with the life growing inside her. “Maybe I should keep her.”

This nagging sensation compelled her to carry the child despite her overwhelming desire to escape. The fluttering kicks made her pause, made her reconsider.

“I have to at least try,” she murmured to herself, both determined and frightened, clinging to a slim hope that things might get better. She began to imagine a future where she could be a good mother, where she could give her child a better life than she had.

As the months wore on, her lifestyle deteriorated as she struggled to cope. Turning to smoking and drinking, she sought temporary solace in substances that dulled her pain. She knew it was wrong, knew she was endangering her baby, but the numbness was the only relief she could find.

“Just one more drink,” she’d tell herself, pouring another shot of whiskey. “It’ll help me forget.”

Tragically, in a moment of reckless abandon fueled by despair, she accidentally consumed meth when she was six months pregnant, further endangering her health and that of her unborn child.

“What am I doing?” she cried, horrified at the thought of what she had just ingested. “I’m ruining everything!”

A doctor eventually warned her about the severe consequences of her reckless choices, detailing the potential impacts on both her health and her baby’s development. She had gone to the clinic for a routine check-up, and the stern look on the doctor’s face told her everything before he spoke.

“Every choice you make affects your child,” he said, the weight of responsibility crashing down on her. “You need to take responsibility.”

Motivated by fear and guilt, she resolved to stop her harmful habits, determined to provide some semblance of care for her child in the lead-up to the birth. She began attending prenatal classes, hoping to learn how to be a mother, even as doubt shadowed her every step.

“I won’t let her suffer because of my mistakes,” she promised herself, fighting against the addiction that had once offered her relief.

In the weeks leading up to her labor, the young mother felt an increasing urgency to prepare for the delivery. Late at night, she scoured the internet for articles and videos, her heart racing with anxiety. “I have to be ready,” she muttered, taking diligent notes on breathing techniques and positions that could ease the pain. “Okay, keep calm, focus on your breathing,” she practiced, envisioning the moment she would bring her daughter into the world. “I can do this. I just need to stay strong and trust my body.”

When the moment arrived, she found herself in a desperate situation, unwilling to go to a hospital, convinced she could handle it on her own. She had always prided herself on her independence, and the thought of admitting she needed help was unbearable.

“No way I’m going to a hospital,” she whispered, her heart racing as she felt the first contractions. “I can do this.”

In the dim light of her car, she gathered her courage, feeling the powerful waves of labor wash over her. Determined to deliver her baby without help, she pushed through the pain, finally bringing her tiny girl into the world. As she cradled the newborn in her trembling hands, tears of relief mingled with her sweat as she began to wipe the blood from her daughter’s face.

“Welcome to the world, my sweet girl,” she whispered, love and fear colliding in her heart. In that moment, she felt an intense protective instinct stronger than anything she had ever known.

But as she opened one of the baby’s eyelids, panic seized her; the eye was cloudy. She checked the other eye, only to confirm her worst fears: her precious baby girl was blind.

“No, no, no!” she gasped, her heart sinking like a stone in her chest. “What’s wrong with you?”

Overcome with despair, the young mother realized she was far too young and unprepared for the responsibilities of motherhood. The protective instinct she had felt moments ago was overshadowed by doubt and fear.

“I can’t do this,” she sobbed, cradling her daughter close, heart aching at their uncertain future. “I’m not ready to be a mom.”

The weight of her situation bore down on her, convincing her that abandoning her child was the only way to ensure the baby’s survival. She thought of all the ways she had already failed and concluded that the only chance her daughter had was to let her go.

“I have to let her go,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face as she looked at her fragile baby. “It’s the only way.”

With a heavy heart, she made the heartbreaking decision to leave her child at the edge of the forest, hoping nature would care for her daughter in ways she felt incapable of doing. The forest had always seemed mysterious, a place where she could escape from the world. Perhaps, she thought, it could offer her daughter something she never could.

“I hope you find a better life out here,” she murmured, her heart breaking with each word as she laid the baby down.

With trembling hands, she gently placed the crying baby at the base of a large tree, one that stood taller and wider than the rest, its bark weathered and ancient. She hesitated, her mind torn between the instinct to protect and the crushing weight of her perceived failures.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “I wish things were different.”

As the baby’s cries echoed through the quiet forest, the wind began to shift, stirring the leaves in a way that made the mother pause. She looked up at the towering tree, its branches creaking as if it were alive, watching her actions. A strange feeling washed over her, one she couldn’t quite explain—a sense that something powerful was observing, waiting.

The tree, ancient and mystical, had always been a subject of local legend, a place where strange things were said to happen. Some claimed it was cursed; others believed it was blessed by the spirits of the forest. The young mother had never put much stock in such tales, but now, standing before it, she wasn’t so sure.

“What am I doing?” she asked herself, torn between desperation and hope. “Is this really the answer?”

For a fleeting moment, she considered taking her daughter back, but the fear of being unworthy settled deep in her heart. The forest was a place where magic thrived; maybe her child could find a better life among its shadows. And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving her baby behind in a world both familiar and unknown.

As she faded into the distance, the air around the forest shimmered with potential, the whispers of ancient magic stirring with a gentle breeze. It felt as though the very trees were reaching out, embracing the fragile new life they had just received.