Lost Star (unfinished but wanting reviews)

Tale of a girl fallen from the heavens, without remembrance of who and what she is.

Legend says that when grief overpowers happiness, the northern star loses her light and falls down to earth, where she becomes a woman. Only one person can help…

 

The girl walked alone down the lane, a confused expression on her pale face. Where was she? And how did she get here? This was far from her home… And who was she? Why couldn’t she remember anything? Her head turned sharply as she heard a voice.

“Hey, missy! What are you doing out here in the dark?” a voice called, rough and male. The girl’s eyes widened. Was he talking to her? “You foolish girl,” the voice continued, and the man it belonged to clambered over a nearby fence to waddle up to her. He was overweight, dirty and smelt of tobacco and ale. He leered at the girl, and she cowered. This man could not mean well for her.

“I…I'm on my way home,” she said softly, looking to the ground. She was lying. She didn’t know where home was, so how could she go there? The man stumbled closer, and she stepped back hurriedly.

“Now, now, girlie, don’t be shy,” he slurred, grabbing her arm roughly. She let out a squeak of fear and tried to pull away. She tried hard not to sob as she fought against his large grip, and struggled harder when he tried to embrace her awkwardly. She closed her eyes, terrified, and hoped feverishly that he wouldn’t hurt her any more than he had with his rough hold on her arm.

“Hey, Logan, get away from her!” another male voice yelled, from behind the girl. She kept her eyes closed, and fell to the ground when the man holding her released her arm abruptly. She didn’t move, shaking on the ground, but looked up when a hand touched her arm lightly. A young man was looking down at her, and she hid her face again, sobbing silently.

“There, there,” he said softly, gently lifting her off the ground and cradling her in his arms as he began to stride away. “I won't hurt you. I promise I won't hurt you,” he murmured, and the girl looked up with tearful eyes as he slowed to a halt. This man was rather handsome, much more attractive than the awful man who had bruised her arm, and he looked much kinder. The girl hid her face again and waited for him to stop moving and put her down.

 

Corey was shaking slightly with ill-concealed anger as he opened the door to his small house. The girl in his arms was tiny and terrified, despite her apparent age. She looked about eighteen or nineteen, but was small for that age. Logan was such a brute…many a maiden had been harassed by him at some point in their lives. Closing the door softly behind him, Corey approached a well-padded chair and set the girl down in it, retreating to the other side of the room to reassure her that he wouldn’t harm her.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, and the girl looked up. Her eyes were pale blue, almost grey, and her hair was the fairest blonde he had ever seen. She was quite pretty, and he wondered where she had come from. He hadn’t seen her around before…

“I think so,” she replied in a trembling voice, her hand moving to her arm. “He…he hurt my arm…” she trailed off as Corey stood suddenly and began to pace, muttering under his breath. She watched him with frightened eyes.

“Sorry,” he said when he realised, sitting in the other chair again. “May I see? I might be able to help…” he waited for her to move, and she slowly lifted her sleeve to show a hand-shaped bruise forming around her upper arm. Corey sucked in his breath sharply. Logan must be strong for him to bruise her so badly…then again, she was pale and rather slim, so she probably bruised easily. Corey stood and walked to a cupboard, opening it and pulling out a small box of healing salve.

“Here, this should help,” he said, holding the box out to her. She just looked at it in confusion. Corey sighed. “Here, let me…” he sat on the arm of the chair and took the lid off the box, scooping out some of the ointment and applying it gently to her bruise. She hissed softly, and he looked at her face. “Sorry, did that hurt?”

“A little,” she said sadly. “But it's helping. Thank you.”

“No problem, little star,” he replied as he put the lid back on the box and ruffled her hair gently. He had no idea why he called her that, but he had to call her something. The girl smiled, the first time he had seen any expression other than fear or pain on her face.

“What is your name?”

“Corey. And yours?” the girl shook her head.

“I can’t remember it,” she said with a slight frown. Then it cleared and she smiled up at him again. “But you called me little star. That can be my name,” she announced, and Corey had to smile.

“I cannot call you that, but I can call you Sidra,” he said as he ruffled her hair again. “It means ‘of the stars’, and it suits you,” he added, and the girl smiled again.

“I think it suits me too,” she replied, rather chirpy. “Thank you.”

 

The girl smiled. She had a name, so she had an identity. She wasn’t just nameless anymore. Sidra stretched, comfortable where she was curled up by the fireplace. The warmth drew her in, made her relaxed. She glanced out the window, and frowned as she saw a blank space where there should be a star. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew there should be a star there. Where had it gone?

Author's Note

I'll add more as I write it.

Reviews

[Gema]

Again i love your writing very diffrent to anything!
I love the story line it very descriptive and new!
I like!
Love the way you write x
Well done x