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?


8. You're Julia Martin?


Grabbing my phone out of my pocket I dialled his number.

“Hey.” He said happily over the phone.

“Hey could you come pick me up? I’m at the park down the road from my work.” I said knowing he knew of the place. We often came here for lunches together.

“Yeah of course.” He replied after a slight pause and then hung up. It was only about 2 minutes before he appeared in front of me with his hands in his pockets.

“You sure came quickly.” I laughed.

“Ugh yeah I was actually going to surprise you at work.” He replied. “So where do you want to go?” He asked me.

“Oh uh… Well I kind of have to go pick something up for someone if you don’t mind.” I answered awkwardly.

“Yeah sure. We’ll put the address into the GPS.” He smiled at me and placed a hand out for me to grab. I happily took hold of it and he pulled me up then let go of my hand. We walked to his car that was parked around the corner; thankfully he hadn’t been followed by any paparazzi. The drive to my mum’s house was short but felt long and awkward.


When we arrived I invited him inside thinking I could tell him if he asked whose house it was. I pulled the keys out and unlocked the door before taking a deep breath and exhaling to relax myself. I placed the keys down on a small table next to the door and he shut the door behind him.

“So… What are we getting exactly?” He asked following me into the kitchen. “These.” I replied to him as I held up two scrapbooks. One looking like a baby book and the other one was extremely worn out like it had gone through a war. I looked around the kitchen and then decided to roam the house. He followed me around silently as we looked at the place.

“Hey isn’t this you?” He asked me from behind. I turned around to look at the photo he was pointing at. It was a photo of me from the end of year 11 when I was 16. How did she get this? I picked the frame off of the wall and looked at it. I guess Rob gave her this.


“Whose place is this and why do they have your picture?” He asked me as he came and stood next to me.

“My mums house…” I whispered to him.

“Your mum? I thought you didn’t know her.” He asked me sounding completely confused.

“I didn’t well I did but didn’t. Ugh it’s so complicated.” I groaned in frustration.

“What’s going on? You can tell me.” He said as he placed an arm around my waist.

“Please don’t hate me for keeping this from you and the others… I just didn’t know how you guys would take it.” I said to him. He kept his arm around me and then a look of confusion spread across his face.

“Babe, just tell me. I wont hate you. I could never hate you.” He told me. I placed the frame down and grabbed a hold of his hand before leading him to the lounge room and taking a seat on the couch. I turned to him and placed my hands over his.


“Do you remember the orange hooded serial killer?” I asked him.

“Yeah everyone does. What does this have to do with?” He asked me completely puzzled.

“And he had the daughter Julia Martin.” I told him.

“Yes I remember that. My family and I felt so sorry for her, not only was her father this horrid man but also her mother was one of his victims.” He told me.

“Well that’s partially true. My father was not a horrible man but my mother was one of the orange hooded victims.” I told him.

“So your mum was one of those 45 women he raped and murdered?” He asked confused.

“No. My biological mum wasn’t raped or murdered by him. The mother I grew up with for 7 years was. Rob killed my real father, Paul, when I was only 6 months old. Rob brought me up as his own, made me believe he loved me when he was one of the most disturbed men I’ve ever known.” I explained.

“Rob as in…” He hesitated a bit. I squeezed his hands hoping that what I was going to say wasn’t going to ruin anything.

“Rob the orange hooded serial killer yes. He kidnapped my mother and I. She was the woman they found in the basement of his shed.” I told him. He moved his hands from me and stood up quickly before pacing around the room.

“Are you telling me that… That you’re Julia Martin?” He raised his hands to his head in frustration.

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