The Star Thief

My hands shook as I rubbed my fingers over the old, rusty key. I slowly held it eye level, inspecting it. I saw a glimmer, and a magnetic pull started yanking me towards the door in the corner. I was going faster, faster, until I was hurtling towards it, jogging, running - and then I stopped long enough to throw the key in the door and twist. The world shimmered, a bright white glow, spinning, spinning, spinning, and then - I stood in a place I only knew as 8D.


1. Chapter 1

Lynne Bridges. fourteen years of age, ten years of being locked away.One week to be a hero...


~~I sighed, staring up at the big dipper, all by myself. I wished I could be outside. But no, that would mean being in public, which would mean I would probably be the clutz I am and make a tree fall over without touching it. I'd done that when I was four.

And then I'd played the piano all the way across the room from it in Pre-K and I'd been sent home early. I never left the house again.

I adjusted my glasses and peeked around the room. I'm sure Mum wouldn't mind if I just open the window a crack, maybe halfway, I thought. She wouldn't care, I told myself, knowing it was a lie.

And so I silently pushed it open, gulping in the fresh air, hanging halfway out of the window. I'd found out a lot about myself, being tucked inside for ten years, and I knew that I needed to be outside at least once a week. So this was my routine.

I didn't even hear the footsteps approaching. I turned around and Mum was standing over me, eyes wide with rage.


"Yes, Mum."

"Get in bed NOW." She said through gritted teeth, pointing a long, bony finger at my heap of blankets known as my bed. She slammed my window closed and locked it, subsequently stomping out of the room.

As soon as I was sure that she was gone, I crept over to the window again.

I sang myself my father's old lullabye: "Hush, little darling, don't you cry; Pa's going to show you the stars tonight." Hot tears streamed down my face. And he would point to all the constellations with me, listing their names, sometimes just pointing at stars that twinkled brightly at the time.

I mimicked his game. Pointing at all the brightest stars, I listed them. "Leo, Gem, Car..." I looked back up at where I was pointing. I couldn't find the stars I had named.

And then I shrugged and moved on, pointing at my father's favorite star: The North Star.

I blinked.

The star was gone.


Thanks to Pinkie Pie and Araina A. for supporting me in this already, they mean a lot to me. Keep reading and I'll keep writing!


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