'Twinkle, twinkle little star
How I wonder who you are.'
With the birth of every child a star is born. The being's life force powers the star and it burns as long as the child's influence is present. This is the unbreakable law o...
Guys please don't tell me to write a cast. Because none of the characters in my story are going to be played by a famous celebrity or model. And there's a reason for that.
Suppose I'm casting Taylor Swift as Hera. The people who doesn't like her will check out my story, read the first word of the first line then look to the right and realize that the whole time they're reading this they'll have to imagine Taylor Swift's face. Then they're going to run the other way screaming. Maybe not all of them but 80% of them.
Don't deny it. It's basic human psychology.
And I ain't risking losing readers because of Taylor Swift :D
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The old ladders creaked under her weight as Hera placed her foot on the third step. She looked up. The ladder was about twelve feet from the ground. A fall from that height would surely earn her a broken bone, maybe two or three. Or worse brain damage.
Yeah no, not a good idea.
She jumped down from the ladder and climbed on the pieces of bricks sticking out of the walls, carefully watching her steps. As she reached the rooftop, she sat down on the edge swinging her legs.
It was three am in the morning and her overprotective grandmother is surely going to have a panic attack if she found out that her precious granddaughter had snunck out of her room in the middle of the night and was sitting alone on the roof of an abandoned building.
She would have a heart attack if she knew that Hera came her almost every night.
She found the building when she was twelve. No other place in the town offered a more breathtaking view of itself than up here. It was her favorite place in the entire town.
She came here to think, to be away from the nightmares.
To every other person this place was, as Lola put it 'creepy as fuck'. There were rumors of it being haunted too. But to Hera, this was her very own territory of solitude.
The building was situated on the outskirts of the town, at the edge of the woods bordering the small suburbs. When Hera was six her parents went on a camping trip in the nearby woods. The day before they left Hera remembered waking up in the middle of the night followed by a strange feeling that she was being watched. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision. Lifting her head up she saw a silhouette standing at the foot of her bed.
She couldn't recognize the figure in the dark. She remembered the surge of fear and blood barging against her heart. Her first instinct was to scream "thief!". But the silhouette put a finger up to it's lips and shushed her.
The moon peeked through the clouds. Its soft glow illuminated the outlines of the silhouette's face. With a star she recognized who it was. Her mom.
"Mom? What are you doing here?," in the dim light Hera could see her mother's puffed eyes. She had been crying.
"Nothing honey. Just couldn't sleep," She smiled. But it didn't reach her eyes.
