A.N_This is my first HeYa story, so please be gentle.
It starts off having nothing to do with either actresses, but the plot will pick up in the second chapter.
P.S_I own nothing, except my imagination.


Nyla was not the average 8yr old girl. Come to think about it she never was. She was seriously into sports, well a sport. Basketball. "Ball is life" was never just a saying to her. She lived by it. It was something she was truly passionate about, and she didn't see that changing anytime soon.

She loved basketball more than anything, well with the exception of her parents of course. But unfortunately they died a few months before her 9th birthday. A car accident, well that was what it said on the eulogy. Nyla didn't believe it for one second.

She knew that her parents wouldn't be so reckless as if to leave her on the earth alone with no one to care for her. Whether it be intentional or not. So during the funeral she left her seat on the pew and exited the church.

Nyla is a very literal little girl. She is also naturally inquisitive. Those are some of the many small things that make her unique, special. So when her parents disused the matter of death with their child, they tried to make it as simple, and black and white as possible.

Her parents told her that when people die they go home. Just as simple as that. But they never explained to her where that home was. So that was where she was headed; her house.

Nyla bounded up the stairs of her front porch and headed straight for the artificial rock her parents hid the spare key under. She grabbed it and slowly pushed it into the lock. Shakily she twisted the knob and opened the door. Her heart was beating so hard and loud she felt it in her ears. That was when doubt started to push its way into her head. What if her parents where not here? What if they lied to her?

"They wouldn't lie to me," she said quietly to herself. Mainly trying to tame her doubtful thoughts. "They're gonna be here. They are gonna be here," she says trying to convince herself. Her search began frantic and desperate but ended defeated, and hopeless. She searched every room and every closet. Nothing, she came up with nothing.

"Please, please be here," she said to herself while tears began to flow freely down her cheeks. She sinks to her knees and lets out everything she had been holding in. This is her first time crying since she got the news of her parents death. She was so hung on the idea of them returning home that she never even considered that they actually wouldn't be here.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye." She silently wept on the floor of their kitchen until she heard something that she would recognize from anywhere. Her head whipped up so fast she could have suffered from whiplash.

"Is that…" she started. And then she heard the noise again, this only confirmed her thoughts. "It is!" She got up while wiping her eyes, and almost launched herself through the two double-sliding glass doors that lead to her backyard. There she saw her parents standing together facing her. Like they knew she was going to show up there or something. "Told you she'd know where to look," her father directed toward her mother.

Nyla was ecstatic. She ran toward both her parents with as much speed as she could get out of her little 8yr old legs, and wrapped her arms around both of their waists. "Mom, dad you're here! I knew you would be. Everyone thought you were dead, but I knew better. I knew you would be here."

Her mother and father exchanged sorrowful looks. "Honey," her mom started while loosening Nyla's grip around her waist and bending down to her level. It pained her that she had to look into her daughter's hope-filled eyes and crush her dreams. "We are dead."

Nyla's world collapsed, along with her all of her strength. Her knees where not enough to keep her upright anymore and she almost fell, until he mothers firm hands squeezed her forearms together keeping her up. "Y-you can't be. I c-can still see you." She managed to say in between sobs.

Her dad decided it was his turn to speak up. When he bent down, Nyla noticed the basketball at his feet. At least she was right about one thing. It was the bouncing of a basketball she heard.

"Ny, come here baby girl." Her mother let go of her arms allowing Nyla to move toward her father. Nyla wrapped her arms around her father's neck for dear life because she knew that it was going to be the last time she would be able to. After a minuet he pulled away and looked Nyla deep into her eyes. "Do you think you can promise me something?" Being at a loss for words she was only able to nod her head. Her father stood at his full height and grabbed the basketball.

He took one of Nyla's hands in his and placed the basketball there. He then took her other hand and placed it on the ball. "Never stop playing, okay Nyla. Never." He then gave her a loving kiss on the forehead and backed away.

Her mother began to speak up. "This isn't permanent, we will all be a family again just give it some time okay."

Sniffling Nyla answered. "Kay, b-but who will take care of me?"

"Your aunt and uncle. All they have to do is sign the guardianship documents, or else they cannot legally look after you." Her mother answered.

There was no more talking for a few minutes after that. It was just them, hugging. Both parents consoling their daughter. Her dad was the one to break the silence. "We love you Nyla, but it's our time to leave."

Nyla didn't fuss, she didn't cry, she just slowly let go of her parents and backed away. Releasing a breath she didn't know that she was holding, she let out a shaky "Bye." As she watched her parents slowly fade away her father's voice cut into her ears one last time, but with greater importance than before. "Remember Nyla, never stop." With that she was left alone with only a ball and the last image she will ever see of her parents some-what alive etched into her mind.

Looking at the ball in her hand she began dribbling with finesse only someone older would have. Before the death of her parents she was passionate about the sport, but now it ran deeper. Basketball was in her blood, it seemed like it was the only thing that connected her to her parents. And she was gonna continue doing it for the rest of her life.

Every trick she imagined with her mind, she tried to do with her body. Through the legs, behind the back, spin-off, step-back. Everything. This continued all night. When she woke up she had the ball clutched into her side, and her other arm under her head supporting and lifting it off of the ground.

"Nyla! Nyla!" She knew who that was. That voice belonged to her aunt. Instead of her voice being laced with worry and concern, it was laced with anger and irritation. 'What a great way to wake up' she thought. "Out here," she replied.

A few seconds later her aunt was opening the doors that lead to were Nyla lay outside. "Don't you ever run away again. Anything could have happened," her aunt spat at her. "And out of all places why come here?"

Nyla was standing now. Her parents never yelled at her the way her aunt did. Her father's sister was kinda cruel, and intimidating. She just stood there holding the basketball and looking at her feet. "I was taught that when p-people die g-g-go home. I thought they would be h-here," she finished. Her aunt looked at her like she was trying to figure out a rubix cube.

"Well, were they?" her aunt inquired.

Nyla didn't want to tell her aunt about anything that happened the night before. She felt it was better to keep it a secret. Something that was just between her and them, something she could keep close to her heart. "No, no they weren't."

"Excuse me?" her aunt chastised.

"I'm sorry-were not." How could someone expect an 8yr old to speak formal all the time.

Her aunt sighed. "Children are so stupid. That is exactly why you have no cousins. Come on Nyla, your uncle is in the car waiting."

Walking back through the house Nyla looked at all of the pictures of her and her parents. But only one was her favorite. When she turned 6 her parents took her to a Chicago Bulls game, and all 3 of them took a picture in the middle of the court. None of them knew that Benny the Bull was in the picture until they bought it from the photographer. Talk about a photo-bomb. He posed B-boy style behind them.

When her aunt wasn't looking she took the picture from its place on the shelf, and put it in the pocket of her dress. That is when she realized she was still in her clothes that she wore for the funeral. She can't wait to change out of it. She hates dresses.

Now approaching the car she could smell her uncle before she could see him. Nicotine and 6,999 other chemicals flooded her nostrils, and instantly made her chest tighten. Reaching in the other pocket her dress had to offer, she grabbed her inhaler and shook it vigorously. Bringing it up to her mouth she pressed down, and inhaled deeply. Twice.

"Gosh, Gerald how many cancer sticks did you smoke while I went into the house? 17?" her aunt asked her husband.

"No, Terry I didn't smoke 17 of them. It may be shocking to you, but I actually enjoy living."

Her aunt looked skeptical. "Oh really. Exactly how many did you smoke?"

Gerald thought back in very deep thought. "Umm, 6." He answered as he flicked his now finished cigarette out of the car window.

"Wow," her aunt deadpanned. "6 cigarettes in under two minutes. At that rate you are bound to set some type of world record, huh?"

Nyla stifled back a laugh, but her uncle caught it and glared at her. "Why don't you just get in the car weasy, before I make you walk," he barked at her. She quickly listened. Opening the door she gently put the basketball in first, and then herself. She knew that this was going to be a long ride.


A.N_Thanks to all who read. Please review to let me know how I'm doing.
Sorry for any spelling, grammatical errors.
Happy Holidays.