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Wishing upon a shooting star

It’s easier to hate than it is to love. It’s easier to cry alone at night than it is to confront your fears. It’s simpler to let go than it is to fight for something you want. We, as humans, like to take the easy route. Will it make us happier in the long run? Probably not, no. Then why do we do it? Because we’re lazy, because we’re scared, because we fear the unknown that’s why. We’re too lazy for the hard-work, too scared of what could happen if it goes wrong, we fear rejection and failure after the hard work. We want a perfect life. But that’s not how life is: life isn’t a book or a movie of which can be written and watched. Life doesn’t get it’s happy ending or maybe it does, but after the happy ending there is always more to the story.

We never really read to the real end do we? We only ever read to the part where we want it end. But that’s not how life is. Nobody’s story is perfect or happy. They all have cracks of unhappiness along the way. People get broken and torn apart. That’s what we call life. Humans fear this part of life. We are pessimistic beings, who fear every consequence and possibility – our daily life decisions so hard to some. Our minds being filled with ‘what ifs’. But we do make our own decisions. You can break the law if you choose to or even stay inside and do nothing if you choose to. We are our decisions, choices and mistakes. No story is the same. Every one is unique.

People are a fascination to me – how they act and learn. How we exist is unknown to me. How we create such amazing things is also unknown to me. But what I do know is that we are all little miracles. Little miracles. So many little miracles wondering the planet. So many minds thinking. Anything you could imagine has probably already been thought up by someone else on the planet.

Nothing you think of is your thought. Your thoughts are yours and someone else’s. Have you ever thought of that? You probably have. No one’s truly alone with their own thoughts. Our thoughts are shared among others. This is why what I’m about to write is probably nothing original. Nothing unique. I haven’t planned it. You can’t plan everything in your life. Things happen, plans change. I wish to inspire others, to help others. But wishes don’t always come true do they? And you’re about to find out how very true that statement is.


One sunny afternoon, a lady with long red hair down to her waist entered the room. The room was a psychologist’s office (or a shrink’s office, if that’s what you like to call it). It was extremely empty with plain lemon walls and only two chairs occupying the small space. It was evident which chair was for the patient (those ones you always see in movies, which are for more laying down than sitting up) and which was for the shrink (a normal brown couch chair which a dad usually occupies for most of his life). The room had a calming feeling about it. A feeling of which made the patient relax and feel separated from their troubles.

This lady was new to therapy. You could tell by the way she looked apprehensive and confused from the basic set out of any psychologist’s room. A little frown replaced her easy-going exterior and a worry line made it’s way onto her flawless skin. To any normal human-being this woman could have been a model – an extremely happy one at that. But right now, to those trained to see the problems in others’ lives, you could see that it was all just a bravado. And the fact that she was here in this office showed that her shell was surely cracking.

“Hello” Her voice was quiet and shy, nothing like her appearance, which contained a bright sky-blue dress, complementing her piercing blue eyes, and fiery red hair matching her red lips. This woman looked as though she wanted attention but spoke as though she shied away from it on a daily basis. She couldn’t have been too old, perhaps only old enough to have just graduated university. Taking a closer look, she looked much younger than at first appearance, maybe about 18?


“Yes, that’s me. I, um, don’t really know how this works. Do I lay down or just sit?” Her eyes darted towards the door looking for an escape. Something that seemed like a routine thing for her.

“Whatever makes you comfortable will be fine. I always put my patients comfort at first priority.”

She nodded stiffly and lowered herself onto the edge of the seat, crossing her legs in a lady-like demeanor. This woman was brought up to act like a lady. She was not used to this kind of thing; her family probably disapproved of the fact she has come to get help. Those type of families often think it as a weakness to ask for help from others- especially when they are below you in status. This girl was different though, you could see that she didn’t believe in that kind of thinking. She wore a soft, caring aura around her.

“So Ruby, would you like to tell me about why you’re here? You, of course, don’t have to.”

“I…I’ve been struggling for a while. My brother died and I can’t seem to handle it.” It came out like a whisper, her eyes beginning to well up like they held the oceans inside and were about to break free.

“How long ago was this?”

“About a year ago.” Her voice wavered, and her perfect posture began to slouch.

“And what have you been doing to cope?”

“I’ve cried a lot, and I’ve tried to talk to my parents but nobody wanted to speak. So…so, I closed off from everyone and decided to cope with it alone. I began reading, I traveled a bit, I got a new job as a waitress down the road. It is London, after all, this city keeps you pretty busy. I was supposed to start university this year but I couldn’t do that after…you know.” Her voice was hoarse and full of emotion. Her face showed that she had tried everything and this, of course, was her last resort.

“I’m glad you’ve decided to come here. Coping alone is never the answer to anything. We as a human species need other people around us. Have you got plenty of friends you could talk to? Anyone else?”

“No. I left them all when I moved here. I’m from a much smaller village full of rich, posh idiots. I swear me and my brother were the only normal ones there. It was always our plan to move to London when we were old enough. He was supposed to move there last year, but I guess plans change.” Every word coming out of her mouth seemed to surprise her as though she had never told another human this story.

“I see. And if you don’t mind me asking how did he die?”

She stared at the floor, body rigid and white.


She said nothing, just kept staring down at her feet.

“Ruby, you don’t have to tell me, but letting it out may help the healing process.”
Again, Ruby nodded stiffly, a little sniffle showed she had let the tears fall. After being given a tissue and wiping and dabbing her eyes so her makeup wasn’t too damaged, she looked up. Eyes wide, face almost translucent, she said,”I…I…killed him?

Okay, be honest and tell me what you think please

until next time..xoxo.Joseh the blogger




3 thoughts on “Wishing upon a shooting star

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