She was singing.

In the shower.

Again.

I felt like shooting myself.

Repeatedly.

She is my current girlfriend. I don't like her.

Scratch that.

I DO like her, but she’s not the one I want. She never was.

It’s not her fault really. She is a great person. She’s intelligent, she’s pretty, and she’s humorous. My friends set me up with a really amazing girl. A really good choice on their part. She really is great. Really.

But she’s not Kayla. Kayla is unique.

And Kayla’s been missing for two years.

She disappeared one Monday morning at the beginning of freshman year and hasn’t been seen or heard from since.

I miss her.

“Erin, you ready to go?” shouts my girlfriend from the shower. She was ready. She wanted to party. I didn’t.

“Yes, lets go,” I answer back. It is the answer I must give. Having a girlfriend requires it. With Kayla. I could have any answer. Either way, she would understand.

We leave the apartment. She tries to take her hand in mine and I shrug her off. She looks at me quizzically. She doesn’t know.

Today’s Kayla’s birthday.

We enter the club. She asks me to dance. I shrug her off. Again. She pouts and asks some random guy to dance. He looks way too happy and she looks way too eager.

Today I don’t care.

I walk out the club. To get fresh air I tell her. She doesn’t hear me. In truth, I just want to think without anyone being here. Near me. Right Now.

“Twinkle, Twinkle little star,” I start to sing.

Someone once told me that singing was a good outlet for your feelings. Whether you were sad. Happy. Indifferent. It always helps.

“How I wonder where you are.”

It was so pretty out tonight. Yesterday, the news said that it was the one-day of the year that the stars of Voltron were visible. This occurs every two years.

Today Kayla turns 22.

Two years ago Kayla came of age. According to the laws of Eximer Seven, that is. They have a lot of laws.

“Up above the world so high.”

I walk into the alley behind the club and pull out a cigarette. By now I’m laughing and singing manically, lost within my own world of sorrow. My two-year-old world. I look down at the now lighted cigarette. It’s funny how I don’t remember lighting it. Or maybe it’s creepy.

The cigarette has a star on it.

“Like a diamond in the sky.”

I remember that Kayla used to sing. About the stars. How they always shown for their special someone. Their only.

She also sung about joining them.

I looked up at the sky and one star brightened. For me.

“Twinkle, Twinkle little star.”

Leaves rustled in the distance. Trashcans fell over from the force of the newly summoned wind. I ignored it and grabbed for my pack of cigarettes. This one had lost its flavor. The next one also had a star.

It reminded me of Kayla.

“How I wonder where you are.”

The moment she arrived I knew. Turning, I smiled and grasped her hand tightly within my own.

And just like that, Kayla and I walked off.

In the distance, someone else began to sing.

“Twinkle, Twinkle little star.”