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Once there was a little girl, shy as a flower could be. She would not wander, but stayed at home with tears in her eyes, for the outside world had been cruel to her.
"I do not know what I should be,” the girl had confessed one night, staring up at the stars in the night sky, "They wish for me to run, to shout, to play… But I don't know why!”
For days she lamented, kneeling in front of the windowsill praying for the stars to hear and answer her call. But her cries were left unanswered for no wind carried her wishes to the stars. Soon, the cool breeze was replaced by a chilling wind, one streaked across one's skin and left shivers in its wake.
But the girl continued to pray, one day crying, "They say my name means the stars, but I don't shine like them. They say I should wait for a prince instead of a princess, yet I am the former. What am I if not my title?”
Yet again, her calls were left unanswered as she stared up at the now cloudy sky. She closed the window quietly, an empty feeling settling in the pit of her stomach as she curled up among her blankets and fell into a fitful sleep.
Little did she know, her call would be answered but not by the stars. For the darkness of the shadows lurked a concerned man: her father, who had stopped behind her bedroom door to listen. Her words cast wounds in his heart for this was the first time he'd heard of her troubles. He had seen her less as the days passed and heard less from her from every conversation he struck.
With a vague sense of understanding, he decided to make a change.
Early in the evening, he stopped by his daughter's room and knocked. The girl hadn't left her room that day, but still opened the door for him.
"...yes?” the girl asked, voice quiet and flat as she stood in the doorway.
But the father couldn't manage a single word. Not because of the state of his daughter, but because of the mess on the floor. Its wooden surface had been covered by little paper stars, with little spaces from where the girl had stepped through.
"Wh-what are these?” he managed to ask.
The girl remained quiet for a moment, looking back at what must have been hundreds of folded pieces.
"Stars. I heard if you folded as many as the stars in the sky, your wish would be granted.”
"Ar-” the father began, before stopping and clearing his throat. "I saw this at a store on my way home and thought this would suit you.”
He held out his hand, which held a small paper bag with a bookstore's logo, out to her. "It's a small gift.”
The girl eyed it for a moment before taking it with a small "thank you,” before turning tail and shutting the door again.
For hours, she left it untouched, returning back to folding paper stars. But as the night grew and she went to bed, sleep would not reach her. She turned and kicked and shuffled, but not a single drowsy feeling kicked in. A feeling of urgency had risen and she didn't know why.
Cracking an eye open, she was met with a strange sight. The curtains she thought were drawn closed were left open with a crack, causing the moonlight shining outside to seep in. That little beam of pure light aimed at one thing and one thing only, the paper bag she left on the floor.
The little girl stared at such a sight, eyes slowly widening once she realized that light had missed every star on her floor. She quietly slid out of bed, creeping up to the bag and opening it. Inside was a comic book, the cover faded but well taken care of.
Still hesitant, she sat down and began flipping through the pages. As each page was read and passed, a smile had begun to grow on her face.
"The character looks like me!” she realized, looking at her own hair and bringing it up to the light.
Although the shade was lighter than hers, she never minded. Each chapter was passed with a new frenzy and soon, she found herself wishing for more.
"The prince isn't afraid of speaking up…” she murmured to herself, "then neither shall I.”
End.