Star Sinclair: Chapter 1
Star Sinclair: Chapter 1
A Chapter From A 2015
Novel I Never Finished
Disclaimer: This chapter escaped from my 2015 archives and has been presented here with no major edits, mostly because I wanted to preserve its raw, unrefined… charm. I never wrote a Chapter Two, and my craft has shifted dramatically since those days. Read on at your own risk, and remember: this is the ghost of my former writing self, not the writer I am now.
Star Sinclair: Chapter 1 begins with a haunting nightmare that blurs past trauma and present uncertainty, pulling a sixteen-year-old girl into a life shaped by constant upheaval. As her father demands another sudden move, Star wrestles with exhaustion, resentment, and the unsettling sense that danger follows them. Beneath the tension lies a deeper mystery tied to her mother’s disappearance, a hidden legacy, and the powers quietly stirring within her. At its heart, this chapter explores fear, family, and the first sparks of a destiny she can no longer outrun.
Star Sinclair
Chapter 1
…Curled up in a ball on the torrid pavement, she lay next to her father’s lifeless body, drenched in blood. As the last storm cloud disappeared from the sky, frigid air brushed against her, causing her to shiver. She was cold and alone. She opened her eyes, the sky clear. The sun was glistening through remnants of sheer clouds above. It illuminated the ground around her.
She needed to get up and get help. Sitting up made her writhe in agony. Bruised and broken, feeling like damaged goods, she closed her eyes and drifted into deep sleep.
#
Buzz… Buzz… Buzz…
The alarm sounded, radiating through her subconscious, startling her. She opened her eyes and sprang into a sitting position on the bed. Realizing she’d just been woken up from a horrific nightmare, she took deep breaths to regulate her staggered breathing. She was scared. The only memory of the dream she had involved her lying next to her father’s dead body in the middle of a Nevada highway. She shook the image from her head and collected herself.
“Honey, we’ve got to get moving,” Carl called up to her, his voice echoing through the hallway.
“I’ll be down in a few,” she replied, her voice muffled by the closed door.
Carl was her father. Since the age of three, he’d been the only parental figure in her life. For as long as she could remember, it had been him and her against the world. Her mom died in a tragic car accident twelve years ago.
She groaned. It was moving day again. When they had moved here, he promised her they’d stick around for a while. Yet, a month later, they were moving again. They had moved five times in the past six months. This was the sixth. Annoyed, she got out of bed and dressed herself, frustration simmering beneath her movements. She tossed her remaining personal items into a box on the floor, then glanced around the room, her annoyance shifting into sadness. She sighed. After all the hard work they did, she realized she liked this place and didn’t want to leave.
She reminisced about the house the day they’d moved in. It was putrid. There were gaping holes in the floors of every room; the kitchen and dining area were infested with roaches, all the counters were cracked, and the cabinets were broken. The sinks, toilets, tubs, and walls were seeping with mold. It was disgusting.
Father bought the house, calling it their last home. He said it was a “fixer-upper” and promised they wouldn’t have to move again. Last week, when he said they had to move, she fumed. He gave no reason, just said they were going to North Carolina.
Though she was angry, she knew she couldn’t hold it against him forever. As she walked around the room collecting the remainder of her possessions, she sighed.
“Star! Let’s go, the movers will be here any minute,” he bellowed up to her, impatience threading through his words.
“Okay, okay! I’m coming!” she shouted back, the frustration clear in her tone.
They were only taking necessities and personal belongings of sentimental value. The movers would load a truck with their furniture and leftover boxes. Then, they would take everything to their new home in North Carolina. She checked that she’d put everything she needed into the box. Satisfied, she headed for the stairs.
#
At the bottom, her father waited with a coffee. She took it gratefully and sipped as they talked.
“I know you’re upset about this move,” he said gently.
“What gave you that idea?” she asked, her words dripping with sarcasm.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the lack of enthusiasm,” he replied, raising his brow in jest.
“Or, it could be the fact that you’ve been sulking around all week, glaring at me like I crushed all your hopes and dreams?” he continued, his tone half-teasing, half-concerned.
She studied his face. He was looking at her with genuine concern. His brow raised. His top teeth bit down on his dry bottom lip, waiting for her response. When she didn’t give him one, he frowned.
“You gotta give me something, Star,” he muttered, his voice low and pleading.
“What do you want me to say? Of course I’m upset—we’re moving again!” she shouted. “You promised this was our last stop, that we wouldn’t do this anymore. And you won’t even say why! Why fix up this awful place just to move again?” she demanded, eyes glaring, anger rising.
“I’m sorry for breaking my promise. It’s for your safety,” he said, looking at her with sympathy.
“Safety? You’re here with me. What do I need saving from?” she asked, finishing her coffee.
“Now’s not the time,” he said, his tone dismissive. “We’ll talk on the road.” Yeah, right, she thought.
“Promises… promises… Why make them if you don’t keep them?” she asked.
“That’s enough, go upstairs. Make sure you’ve got everything you want to take with you,” he commanded sharply. “When you come back down, bring a new attitude with you,” he added with finality.
She spun and stomped upstairs, frustrated and fuming. Inside her room, she slammed the door, sat on the bed, hugged her knees, and cried.
#
Carl took a deep breath. He loved his daughter with all his heart. All he was trying to do was keep her safe. When his wife disappeared, he vowed he’d do everything in his power to make sure nothing would ever happen to her. An imminent threat lurked in the shadows; people were after her. He couldn’t tell her that; it would only frighten her.
Up until six months ago, they had moved every six months. He moved them, not because she was in danger, but because he wanted to ensure she’d stay out of it. His wife, Charlotte, took off twelve years ago, giving no warning except for a note:
“Carl,
I love you and our Star more than anything in this world. Distressed, I write to you now in fear for our lives. I’m not who you think I am, and our daughter isn’t who you think she is either. I have to leave, and I need you to look after her. Keep her safe; protect her.
There are people in this world who want her dead. If I stay, they’ll surely find her. Pack up what you can and get the hell out of here. There’s enough money in the bank for you both to live off of for the rest of your lives…
Please don’t come looking for me; you’ll only put her in danger. If you notice anything strange, anyone unfamiliar lurking around, you need to take Star and relocate. The more often you move, the less likely they’ll be able to track her.
At midnight, in the early morning, on her sixteenth birthday, she will come into powers you can’t even begin to understand. You’ll need to take her to my sister Clarissa’s in North Carolina. In case you’ve forgotten, we had our wedding reception there. Clarissa will be able to explain everything and help Star as she struggles with the changes of becoming what she is… I’m so sorry that I can’t be there with you guys. I’ll be watching over you the best I can. You must keep her safe!
All my love,
Charlotte.
P.S. Clarissa’s address is:
Clarissa Sinclair
14598 Sinead Drive
Birch, North Carolina.”
He fought tears as her words filled his mind. He’d stayed strong for Star. He still had a job: it was time to go. He always kept her letter in his wallet. Kissing his finger, he touched his back pocket, brushed off the thoughts, and went to the stairs.
“Star, time to go,” he called out, his voice firm yet gentle.
“I’ll be down in a minute!” she yelled back, exasperation clear in her voice.
Walking over to the kitchen counter, he pulled two objects from his pocket. The first was a plastic bag containing a charm he’d bought for his daughter’s upcoming birthday. It was a wolf made of sterling silver. Its eyes were made of emerald-green diamonds. The second was a small box containing a bracelet that had belonged to his wife. It was a platinum tennis bracelet. Attached to it was the Angel charm he’d bought for Charlotte on their first anniversary. The Angel was lined with half-carat diamonds. She held a heart at her center, and within it sat an emerald-green diamond.
He pulled the wolf charm from the bag and opened the small box. As he looked at the bracelet, a wave of emotions hit him like a monsoon. It reminded him of Charlotte. Again, he found himself fighting back tears. He placed the wolf into the box as he heard a shuffle upstairs. Quickly, he grabbed a piece of paper from a notepad and jotted down a note:
“My Dearest Star,
This belonged to your mother, and I thought it was about time I gave it to you. I’ve added something special for you. Happy Sweet Sixteenth Birthday, honey. I love you.
Love Always,
Dad.”
He folded the note, placed it in the box, and put both in his pocket. He carried out the necessities, loaded the car, and leaned against it to wait.
#
Sitting on her bed, Star wiped her tears. She hated fighting with her father. She just didn’t get why he felt compelled to keep moving her. What was he protecting her from?
She got up and went to the bathroom. Passing the closet mirror, she paused. Her face was red from tears. Her auburn curly hair, in a ponytail, hung over her shoulder.
Reaching into the back pocket of her denim shorts, she pulled out a handkerchief. She dabbed at her face, drying up the leftover tears. As she cleaned up, she noticed the dark circles under her eyes.
Getting the house put together – renovating all month, then spending the week packing for the move had been tiring. She hadn’t gotten much sleep as of late. Getting up at the crack of dawn, she had helped her father pack each room of the house. They’d stop at midnight, and by the time she’d wind down from the day’s events, the clock would read.
1:00 am. By the time she drifted off to sleep, it’d be after two. She was exhausted. She yawned.
She finished cleaning her face, folded the handkerchief, and put it back into her pocket. She glanced at herself in the mirror again.
“Ugh!” she thought, disgusted by the dark circle remaining under her eyes.
She used the bathroom, washed her hands, and headed back to her room. As she skimmed the remnants, she picked up the box of her possessions. She had everything; it was time to go. She turned from the room and walked down the stairs.
When she reached the landing at the bottom, she stopped to admire their handiwork. Her father believed that if you want it done right, you have to do it yourself. In a month, they’d put in all-new cherry-stained hardwood floors and carpeting. They replaced all the kitchen countertops and cabinets and installed an island countertop to match. Before painting the walls, they got rid of the mold and roaches. They even rebuilt and extended the fireplace. Glancing around, she reveled in delight at the result.
She made her way through the living room to the entrance hall, turning around to take one last look. She didn’t see anything of importance. Heading for the door, she hoped she’d see the house again someday. She walked out the front door to the porch.
#
The scorching Nevada heat was almost unbearable. In the shade, the temperature gauge, outside the door, read 110 degrees Fahrenheit. It was hot, too hot. She took a deep breath and let out a sigh.
She noticed her father leaning against the passenger side door of the car. He’d been waiting for her. As he stood, with a half-smirk on his face, his dark brown short hair was matted to his head. Loose strands stuck to the sides of his round-shaped face. Though he was leaning, he did so with amazing confidence.
As she noticed the smirk on his smug face, she rolled her eyes. Still irritated because he broke his promise, she grimaced. Honestly, she adored him, but she was mad that he lied. He had taken care of her, on his own, since she was three years old. He never dated anyone else after her mom died, and he focused all of his attention on her. She always had a roof over her head, a place to lay her head at night, clean clothes on her back, and food in her belly.
She made her way down the steps of the front porch and joined her father at the car. He put his arm around her and placed his hand on her shoulder. As they looked at the tan house in front of them, she felt him squeeze her shoulder. Simultaneously, they sighed.
“I think I’m going to miss this place,” they said together.
“Maybe we’ll see it again someday,” he hinted.
The Duo chuckled. Her father opened the door for her and walked around to the driver’s side. When they were in the car, seatbelts on and both doors closed, he started it up and backed out of the driveway.
When they reached the end, they looked at each other. It had become a tradition of theirs to honk the horn as a means of saying goodbye. She waved as her father honked the horn and they began their journey across the country.
They rode in complete silence.
