Counting Stars

Juliet struggles to deal with an identity crisis brought about by her past. The boys of One Direction set out to help her discover who she really is and who she should be known as. The entire time she has known them she has kept her past a secret from 4/5 of them. When she receives a call she finally gains the courage to tell another one of the boys. Then slowly one by one they all are told. Some feel betrayed and the others understand why she kept it from them.

Is she Julia Martin?
Juliet Summers?
Or does she go by Olivia Jackson for the rest of her life?
Each name has some painful memories behind it.

While doing this does her feelings for one of the boys create more problems that it solves?


4. My Dad

I sat there awkwardly not saying a word. What could I say to the woman who wanted nothing to do with me?

“I guess I’m going to do all the talking then.” She sighed as she fiddled with her hands. “I know you would be wondering why after 2 years I want to see you… Well the thing is I’ve been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour. I haven’t had my chance to ever explain to you the truth as I’ve been so wrapped up in my own problems I forgot that I should have been there for you when you were dealing with this.” She said before looking up to meet my eyes.

“I need to tell you everything if you are happy to listen.” She said hesitantly.

“I want to know the truth.” I whispered. I got comfortable in the seat, as this was sure to be a long story. I was right about it being a long story.


For 2 hours she explained to me everything. She got pregnant at the age of 21 with me to a man named Paul who she had been happily married to for 2 years. Rob kidnapped Jessica and me when I was about 6 months old. He killed Paul that night when Paul tried to protect Jessica and I. From then on Jessica spent the next 16 and a half years of her life stuck in the basement underneath the garage. She told me how he would bring a new girl down and would murder the girl right in front of her. One night it was different. My mother, Andria, had discovered the basement so my father killed her. Jessica would always ask Rob about me whenever he was in a good mood, which was right after he killed a girl. He would share with her my latest achievements, which she used as her way of staying strong. Then when they had found her she had asked the police about me, if I was okay and if he had ever hurt me. She was relieved when they said I was fine and that he had been treating me like a princess. When they gave her the most recent photo of me at the police station she broke down. Apparently I looked so much like Paul and I still do. She kept apologising for abandoning me when she should have been my mother.


“Who were the ladies in here earlier?” I asked her.

“They’re my sisters children. About a year ago I got in touch with her. Unfortunately I’ve left this far too late.” She sighed.

“Why?” I asked her curiously.

“I’m dying. There is nothing they can do about the tumour. I just wish I were there for you. I wish I were the one you knew as mum. I despise him for taking you away from me and for killing the love of my life.” Her voice breaking and I could see tears forming in her eyes.

“You are my mum.” I whisper as I grab a hold of her hand softly.

“I’m glad you think so after all of this.” She stifled a laugh.

“Can they really not do anything about the tumour? Can’t they operate or even start chemotherapy just to slow it down? Anything so I have more time with you?” I asked her just hoping for more time with her than I could have now.

“They could do radiotherapy which could stifle the growth for another 12 months but we can’t afford it and my insurance doesn’t cover it. Without that I have about a month left.” She explained to me.

“I could afford it. I’ve saved up plenty from my job on the radio station.” I said confidently.

“Don’t waste your money on me darling.”

“Its not a waste if it means more time with my mum. I used to despise you for the fact you didn’t want anything to do with me but I understand now. I understand how difficult it would have been.” I whispered to her as I tried to hold back any tears.


“Could you do me a favour?” She asked me. My head tilted up to look at her as a tear rolled down my cheek.

“Anything.” I said.

“In my bag is a set of keys to my house, the address is on a business card I carry in my purse. Could you possibly go and get two scrapbooks that are on my kitchen table?” She asked me.

“Of course. I’ll do that tomorrow.” I said before grabbing the handbag and placed the keys and business card in my pocket. “Tonight I want to know what my mother was like as a teenager.” I said to her as I rubbed circles on the back of her hand.


That entire night we went without any interruptions and talked non-stop. It was like there was this instant bond between us that couldn’t be described. A few times my phone went off which I ignored. Who ever it was could wait until tomorrow. After a while it grew late and I fell asleep holding her hand with my head on the bed.

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