Counting Stars

16 year old Lela Hemmings has never felt real love. Her father died when she was 15 and her mother died giving birth to Lela. Lela lives with her Aunt. She is depressed, insecure, and shy. She walks the halls with her head down and her mouth shut. She is bullied though. Pushed. Laughed at. Judged. Due to her shyness, she literally doesn't talk to people. At all. As a result, she is afraid to stand up for herself. Then someone walked into her life. She didn't want them to stay, but she didn't want them to leave. Can someone as simple as a person, as simple as a boy, change her life?


1. Nothing has changed. It never will.

Nothing has changed. It never will.


I walk down the hall way. I memorized the whole school. I know it better than the back of my hand.

I keep my head down, and my mouth shut.

My goal is to not talk to anyone again like I did last year. When I say I didn't talk to anyone, I mean, nobody, Not even my Aunt. And I live with her.

I started to forget what my own voice sounded like. I don't do it because I have a problem with my vocal cords or anything, I am just extremely shy. I took shy, to a whole knew level. 

I feel a hard push and then my right arm starts to ache. I look up through my glasses. Brenna. She stands over me laughing with her posse. Great. First day of school and nothing has changed, once again.

The ache in my right arm turns into more of a sharp pain. I soon realize, I was pushed so hard into the brick wall, my arm is bleeding. Not only that, but I can't move it. Brenna by now had walked away. For once. I stand up and walk to my first class.

Class was painful, but I didn't say anything. I have a cast at home, so I can wrap my arm myself. Between each classes, I was pushed and laughed at.

At the end of the day, I hurry down the halls.

"Four eyes!" Someone yells as they trip me. I look up and see the person who had tripped me. Marty. He did things under influence. He thought it made him look cool. And go figure, he too has glasses. Ironic huh? I get up and speed walk out of the school.

When I get home, my Aunt is waiting for me.

"How was your day?" She asks. I sort of smile and shrug.

"Still not talking?" She questioned. I nod.

"For god sakes Lela! It been almost two years! I just want  to hear your voice. I miss hearing my niece come home and start talking. Being happy!" She says.

'Gee, I'm sorry that my dad died and I only felt comfortable talking to him because your fucking ex-boyfriend destroyed my trust.' I think. I just shrugged, grabbed a bottle of water and went to my room. Yep, nothing has changed, and it never will.

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