This story was is about a girl.

Well, some say that most are.

But most would start with once upon a time or in a far away land. The girl would either be a princess or a pretty, or even gorgeous girl with the smoothest skin, the deepest eyes and the best figure you could ever imagine.

In my eyes, I see her that way.

But by no means would you notice her in the street. She isn't a famous superstar, a brave independent woman with any rank or high job. You wouldn't recognise her name or face; you wouldn't care if you did.

No, this girl isn't one to stay in the spot light, or make her presence known when she enters the room. She would enter and sit down quietly, sip her herbal tea and take life as it comes. At such a young age she has the wisdom of an elder. And yet, she is not noticed. She does not talk loudly, flip her hair at the opposite sex and push her bust together when her object of desire comes into view. No, this girl isn't like that at all. This girl, is nameless to you. She is to so many people. Even her teachers have to look at the register twice to call her.

No, this girl is not well known, or cared for.

But she is special.

I can see that.

I can see past the high, perfectly tight bun of restrained blonde hair. I can see past the calm, shielded blue eyes that are deeper than the greatest waters.

I see her as she sits alone, in the corner, behind a book as she annotates the correct way to differentiate between the perfect, and imperfect tense.

I can see her.

Even though you can't.

I can.

So yes, this story is about a girl.

A very, very special girl.

She may not be popular, she may not be stunning.

But she is special.

And she has something that no one else in either her, or this world has.

She….

….has me.

Chapter 1

"Mrs Hana Hoshi?" Mrs Kuro looked down her list of pupils. Yes, she never could remember that name. Why she didn't know. "Please wipe the board down."

"Yes Mam." All the class of Aka Kawa high school had already left the classroom, to talk of how they were going to spend their summer holiday and who with. All, but Hana Hoshi.

She was always left behind.

So she was always the one to put up the chairs and clean the board while the teacher went home.

"You are a good girl." Mrs Kuro smiled and took her aged body to her car and home. It was several minutes later before Hana had finished wiping the board down. All the chalk had vanished and it looked almost new. But she still scrubbed it, as if she wanted to see the wall behind it. Both her hands hurt on the towel, as she scrubbed harder and harder, her sobs giving her a rhythm to clean to. Then, finally, she fell to her knees and tears welled in her eyes. Hana allowed herself to weep, now that she was alone. "So, so empty…" she bit her lip and clawed at the wall. Somehow, she manage to pull herself up and put the old board towel on the front desk, sling her pristine backpack over her shoulder, and go home.

This didn't help her mood at all.

The house was just like she had described herself in the classroom. Empty.

It seemed almost as dead as…

"Hana? Are you home?" she didn't say anything, but walked over the threshold and locked the door behind her. "Hana?" still she said nothing, as she slipped her shoes off and placed them in their proper place, in the shoe rack. "Hana…" she looked up, into the tired, red and raw eyes of her father. He was a tall man, close to 6 foot at the least. His hair was usually so tidy in a tie back ribbon, brushed off his face and his clothes were always still as straight as it had been when first ironed. Just like he hadn't worn it all day at the office.

But now…now it was scrunched up, unbuttoned, his tie in his hand, his hair strewn over his face, no ribbon holding it back, his smooth face covered in harsh stubble, and his eyes looked like he had been held in place, and had lemon juice poured into them.

In all, he looked a sorry sight. But this didn't unnerve Hana. She was used to this now… "Hana…"

"I'm home, Papa." She nodded respectively, and walked towards him. "You should rest Papa, you do not look well."

"I am fine my dear. No need for you to worry over me." he smiled. Even with fatigue, his grey eyes were loving. "You are so much like her…"

"I have homework." Hana smiled sweetly, and walked straight past him and up the stairs. "Put some ice on the headache of yours, take a pain killer and lay down for a few hours. I will make supper for us later. Sweet and sour rice. Would you like that Papa?"

"Hana…I would like it much more if you were to come and talk with me. You don't need to bottle it up you know."

"I am just fine Papa." She couldn't see her father as she leaned against the wall, just around the corner from the stairs. It was better that way. "I just need to get my homework done. You get some rest."

"Hana, we need to talk. You need to talk. You need to talk about it to me. To someone, anyone."

"I don't need anything Papa." She whimpered, glad he couldn't see her tears. It would tear him apart. "I am a little tired."

"Then you can do your homework later. Tomorrow perhaps? Maybe you should get some rest."

"Only if you promise me you will to." please don't go to the bar again…you came back in an ambulance last time…

"If it'll make you feel better, then it's a deal. How about I order take out for later, save you cooking."

"Sure, thanks Papa." She smiled to herself, a job well done and pulled away from the wall. She slowly walked into her room, and closed the door softly. Her bag found its place under her desk, her school books in her draw and her uniform in the wash basket.

As she laid on her bed, her bun now askew, small locks of golden hair faming her face with her fringe, and her eyes filled with tears once more.

I'm alone now. Good. It's better this way…no one to see…the real me… she let her well built mental walls crumble to her sorrows, and she wept silently. As not to upset her father. She couldn't live with doing that. She couldn't live with doing that to anyone. It was for her father that she kept a smile, that she suppressed her anguish and kept on going.

That is what she told herself anyway.

Perhaps, she didn't want to think about it, but perhaps…it was because if she did stop, if she did let her emotions catch up with her, and let them affect her…she would break at her seams. She would break, and there was no way to fix herself again. I mean, now that she is gone…there is no one left to fix her… "Momma…" she whimpered her mother's name, and her pain doubled. Every night she would go through this routine. Go to school on autopilot, come home, wear a smile for her father, and then cry herself to sleep. Only to be cursed to repeat the vicious cycle all over again.

"Hana, we need to talk. You need to talk. You need to talk about it to me. To someone, anyone." Yeah, it would be nice to talk to someone…but that is the problem Papa. I don't have anyone…I am alone now. I can't talk to you about it or I would hurt you. I don't have any friends to talk to about it, no one even knows me. even though we have all gone to school together for years…I am just not…capable of having friends.

She whimpered and let her tears pool into her pillow. She stayed like this for hours until she thought she heard a thud downstairs. She slowly forced herself up, smiled, and went downstairs. But all Hana found was her father, half hung over the couch with one empty bottle in his hand, and many more cluttering the living room. "Oh Papa…" he choked a sob and began to clear away the bottles. The money he was going to use to order food from, he had used on booze.

Again.

"Oh Papa…" the best thing for her to do now is get him to bed and deal with him in the morning. But that would be harder said than done. She was only 15 after all. "Looks like you're sleeping on the couch again. I'll get the blanket…" she acted just like a nurse as she ticked him into a decent enough cocoon with the cover on the couch, a pillow under his head. This is my life… she looked down at her drunken father, passed out from intoxication. I hate seeing him like this…I hate it! She sobbed out loud now, and ran up the stairs. She threw herself on her bed and wailed to herself, clutching the blanket of her bed, weeping almost as much as she did before…

I hate this, I hate this so much. She bit her lip. I just wish I could get away from this, all of this…