She was a lone star forced to stay away from the sun.
She learned to keep quiet and sit in the back.
She forced herself to stay hidden and unseen because she was only a star pushed out of the constellation.
He was the planet that moons were captiv...
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
Elijah left shortly after we had exchanged numbers. He sent me a dashing grin before leaving to walk back into the rain outside. I had asked him to come up but he had instantly declined, eyes wide with a little panic. I admit it was startling but he refused to come in saying he needed to go.
I nodded and watched him go, feeling much better than I did a few minutes ago when I was on the ground feeling lonelier than ever. I felt pleasantly pleased when he recognized me and it sent a thrill up my body.
I turned around and walked up the stairs as there was no elevator and steadily climbed up till the second floor, immersed in Elijah’s act of kindness.
Why did he help me? He could have gone home but he helped me and left me first. What did he see in me that compelled him to help?
I shook off the feeling where his hand had touched my cheek for a split second and the zap of warmth had heated my face, much more enjoyable than any heater. It was so weird. I never felt that in my entire life.
What was happening to me?
I knocked on my door still trying to sort out the events when I saw Clara poke her head out and then further open the door, a relieved expression on her face.
“Ms. Caldemon, you’re here. I thought you wouldn't come, it's raining cats and dogs.” I could see the dark bags under her eyes.
Clara was a nineteen year old who lived in the apartment above mine, alone. She was the only one I knew in this town apart from Mrs. Winston and she was lovely.
I don't know much about her but she was a nice girl who hadn't had the best life since she barely had a job but tried to work as a journalist. I asked her once if she was going to school or college but she laughed and said she had, once upon a time.
I wanted to help her because there was something about her that reminded her of me, so I asked her to babysit Aloura and homeschool her. In exchange, I’d pay her. Clara hesitantly agreed and it was a win-win situation for us all.
Except the money part for me.
“It is. You can go home now Clara. Thank you for staying.” Clara smiled politely before heading out. She lived a floor above me and it was easier this way because I could call her on a shorthand notice and she wouldn’t have to walk in such weather.
I walked in, cringing at the mess I made on the floor. I looked at the living room and smiled just as my little Aloura came into view. She was wearing her pajamas and sitting on the floor with a book in front of her as she tried to pronounce the words in her notebook.
Not to brag but Aloura was a pretty smart child. At just five years she could speak fluently and she had already learned how to write and identify four letter words and was learning five letter words.
