Lying on the roof of the Drop Ship, Asteria has her limbs stretched out around her as she gazes at the stars in the night sky, this had quickly become her favourite place inside the confides of their camp. Up here she had a clear view of everything happening during the day, while, at nightfall she could clearly see all the stars.
On of one her first nights here she had noted how they looked different from the Ground as opposed to the Ark but she knew that was to be expected. Down here they were shining lights that speckled across the sky although not all of them were equally as bright they all work together to create the mesmerizing series of images above her. It is enchanting and serves it’s purpose as the distraction she’s been seeking
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Except she didn’t come up here to think about anything associated with the ‘g’ word, so instead she lets her eyes trail over the stars, searching for a familiar constellation.
Pegasus is the one she finds. The four brighter stars make up the square, which represents the front half of the horse’s body, even though the stars that compromise the neck and legs of the horse aren’t as bright she could still distinguish them. The constellation doesn’t actually look like a horse unless the image is flipped over in your mind, Asteria remembers reading that in her family’s large book on constellations. She can also recall reading how some nights there were stars that created the appearance of wings on the horse, which gave it its famous name.
Asteria found it beautiful. And she knew her parents would too. The dull ache in her chest over the recent likelihood of her father’s death resurfaces as thoughts of her parents begin to cloud her mind. It seems distractions from reality never last long. What hurts the most, she thinks, is the fact that she would never be able to share any of this with her father because he would be the only one to understand how it would have made her mother
Stargirl was not like everyone else in Mica High. She was a unique individual with no restrictions to her own identity. But when Leo stressed the fact that she was so different, she undertook the task to change herself, for Leo’s sake. Even though Leo was euphoric with the new Susan Caraway, her shunning was not ebbed. The change did nothing for stargirl but cripple her jovial personality. Stargirl shouldn’t have changed herself for someone else’s motive, but should’ve kept herself the way she was, as your own happiness should be put before others, and there’s always someone that stays by your side no matter the notions made of you.
Since a child, Stargirl had always seemed a bit… off. Her parents seemed to adore her weirdness, they even seemed to encourage it at times. To demonstrate, her parents called her Pocketmouse. They used it to so much that even she started referring to herself as Pocketmouse instead of Susan. But did her parents ever do anything about it? Of course not. She kept the nickname, until she changed it to Mudpie. Then Hullygully. And then Stargirl. But at the time, I knew her as Mudpie.
Oh dear! I can't believe what I just did, it was so hilarious, I hope
When the stars died, they left their memory with her. Look at the young woman as she traces her dull eyes along the endless space. Vertigo lays a veil upon her expression. Chalk dusts the sky and its particles whirl into gentle rings. Fine shards of illumination glimmer from the distending rift overhead. The night lights wink upon her while bursting out as brilliant white. Matter dissolves pale over the ink plane. Sweeps of silver fabric unlace above the drift. The mousy film on the horizon begins to bleed away as her vision stammers somewhat before recovering. Someplace distant a voice hums a single iteration of speech, albeit indiscernible.
I’ve known this day was coming for months. Yet, I’ve no idea how to feel about it. The late Mrs. Ewell was my best friend when we were young. Close as two can be, Elizabeth and I were. That doesn’t hide the fact that Thomas’s practically raised me. Mrs. robinson was a kid herself when she had Tom, but she raised him well from her practice from me. Memories of both women flooded my mind. Someone in the back of my head murmurs about right wounds and left hands, I think nothing of it. I glance at Atticus and my focus shifts. He has been there since before I can remember. Neighbors when we were younglings, friends also. He is four years my senior, so being an only child made me think of him as a brother. Ever since we were little I have trusted him. He’s always been stable to me and I had a gut feeling he was always right. My suspicions were confirmed when he disapproved of my husband, who evidently ran away with some babe of twenty-two and my mother’s gold
Today can easily be described as one of the most interesting yet unlucky days of my short life. I am on a stranded island. Alone. No parents, adult supervisors like the ones from our school, no, well, civilization. All I can think about is my family, and the few close friends I had back home.
Sitting across from me I noticed an old woman with white hair and round glasses looking at me as if I had killed her children or ruined her marriage. The old woman was wearing a purple moo moo decorated with poorly drawn roses that looked like something a kindergartner would finger paint. I knew this woman from somewhere, but I couldn't remember what her name was until I noticed the neon pink bunny slippers she was wearing. That old cranky woman was Penelope’s mother Harriet Shepherd who didn't like me before I died which means she has to despises me now since I abandoned her daughter for thirty years. Now that I think about it my subconscious was kind of hoping she wouldn't be around not dead just in a coma or locked inside a plastic bubble.
She realizes the extent of damage her selfish actions have caused her late children, robbing them of “births” and “names” (line 16), elaborating on how they did not get to experience a single joyous moment nor worry a single day. She explains to them how although they are not with her, she hears their voices in the winds and is often reminded of them. It seems that she cannot find a remedy to rid the guilt she has been feeling so she can only confess and express her love for them, for partial
screaming, “ God why do you hate me are you calling me back so you and dad can hear me cry and listen to my pain to laugh at all ive ever did was be the best daughter I can be by getting good grades, behaving and looking picture perfect just like you wanted me to are you liking the satisfaction of what is going on what on earth is wrong with you?You're my parents you're supposed to love me and be proud of me for doing my best but this is what I get for trying to be the daughter you always wanted!” Amelia sighs exasperated when Andrew says ,“Wow that was amazing that took major guts admitting that to me.”Amelia is so shocked she looks like she has just seen a ghost when she says, “I am so sorry I didn't mean to take out my anger and frustration
Further on, she realizes that her mother’s disapproval does not come from a place of anger but rather a place of envy; she states “it did not occur to [her] that [her mother] could be lonely, or jealous.” This makes her realize her mother may not have been standing in her way but rather saving her from being hurt because her mother has previously been through similar circumstances of gender
Rose-hued eyes stared back with a glint of contemplation, lips, as thin as the reed swaying in the spring breeze and pale as the winter’s snow were set in a grim line. Slowly, with lean fingers shivering indefinitely, they grasped the small black tube upon the counter, twisted it open then produced a color of red as bright as the blood. Heaving a heavy sigh, she held the tube closer to her lips, drawing a fine color thus concealing its whiteness. For a moment, she stared at her, noting her pallid cheeks and hence, give several pats on them, which produced a slight shade of pink, consequently coloring them. Quite satisfied with herself, she offered a faint smile, her slender fingers pushing back a strand of loose hair behind her ear.
A year has gone by since I began living with my fiancé, Felix Knox. By the time a year went by I felt comfortable enough that I allowed Felix to kiss me and hug me, but nothing more than just that. He's keeping his word by not touching me without me allowing him to. After a year living here I began to get used to where the majority of the rooms we used frequently were located. I knew where the: dining hall, Felix's bedroom and office, my bedroom, garden, sunroom, library/study, and the ballroom were at.
Disappointed to never see her father again and disappointed to know it was her mother’s fault.
A spark of light cracked across the sky, a bolt so bright, it must have lashed down from the heavens. Little beads glistened above, iridescent crystalline gems falling, tumbling down from a cinder-gray cloud. Like glass seeds, Raya thought. Twilight in the shape of tears. She strained her hand up, so heavy as though made of brick. Like glitter, stars spilled from the cloud and tapped against her lip like frozen berries.
Title??? I thought I was safe. I thought that I was safe with her. I guess I thought a lot of things