Hey Guys!

Look, this is my first Men in Trees fanfiction, so be nice, ok? I'm a Brazilian girl, so probably there are some things misspelled or grammatically wrong – if you spot a mistake, please tell me and I'll fix it.

Obviously I don't own anything (frankly, if I was the writer for Men in trees, Lynn would be far gone by now, probably hit by a truck ¬¬ )

I don't know if I'm keeping this title, 'morning stars' because it sounds very cliché. It's actually the name of a poetry by a Brazilian guy named "Manuel Bandeira" ( Estrela da Manhã ). Well, I'll figure it later.

Anyways, that's it, hope you like it:)

The morning star

Chapter one: Starving.

I am concentrating as hard as I can, but I don't think it's possible. Nop. Dam, I don't think you can die of starvation just by lying on the carpet.

It's just so freaking hilarious. I mean, I, Marian Friske, I am hilarious. I am a freaking hilarious lie. I'm mistakenly supposed to help people – actually, I'm supposed to be the very best one at doing that… So, I wonder, who's going to help me? How am I supposed to tell people to be strong when I'm feeling so… So naked? So vulnerable and weak that I even feel pathetic – too pathetic to go out, actually. Every time I go out I feel people staring at me, expecting me to do or say something fabulous and all I wanna say is: " Guys, could you please, please look away? I'm trying to put the pieces of my broken self together and I'm really embarrassed about it – I really don't want to be watched while I do it." Well, that's why I've given up going out. I haven't been out of my room for 2 days, now.

One of the things that pained me the most was that I've always been able to taught people to have hope. How am I going to do this now? "Hey, have hope! Just because half of me is feeling dead and the other half is seriously suicidal, it doesn't mean you can't hope for better things! Cheer up!"

I don't think people would buy it.

I guess it's too bad for me that Elmo doesn't have a delivery service. Now I'm going to die hungry, poor and forgotten. Oh, yeah… and alone.

As my thoughts grew distant, the ringing phone brought me back to earth. And then I realized… Jeez, I was starving!

"Marian? It's Annie. I was wondering, what do you wanna eat tonight?"

Hearing Annie's voice, which sounded so… so deeply… compassional, almost filled with pity, it really made me feel like crap. What if Annie was busy, what would I do, die of starvation? Suddenly, I had this awful vision of myself, laid of the bathroom floor, dead – and then nobody would miss me and a savage raccoon would come and eat half my face.

I've deciced a long time ago I don't wanna be this girl.

"You know what, Annie? Just 'cause Jack can't see how amazing I am, it doesn't mean I have to be left behind to die and then be eaten by some stupid wild raccoon. I can take care of myself. I'm going to fetch my own dinner tonight!"

" Uh… You sure? You are souding a bit… Uhn… Crazy?"

No, not really.

" Yeah, sure! I mean, eventually I have to go out, right? Girls will be girls, Annie!"

"You don't know how nice it is to hear this, Marian. It sounds like you're back."

Then we hanged up the phone.

Yeah, Annie, I guess I was starting to come back.

After I hanged up the phone, I felt something funny inside my stomach. It took me a while to recognize it – it was anxiety. I mean, the good kind of anxiety – you know… The one you feel on your first day at a new job or school, those occasions when you change your clothes twice to look your best and feel really… hopefull. When you don't know what lies ahead of you and all you can do about it is hope for the best. It's like… Like the beginning of a walk, and, my friend, I really like walking. I took a really long hot bath and picked up my best clothes: A blue sweater, a wool's black skirt, high healed black boots – everything covered with a purple leather coat. Then, I marched outside like someone that marches for freedom – I was sick and tired of hiding.