pleading to the stars

She sang softly to herself, sitting down clumsily on the street curb, completely ignorant to the cold or darkness around her. All her friends seemed to have disappeared. Bâtards, she frowned up at the sky, her singing quickly to changing to a soft hum.

And on all days, her birthday? That just didn't seem fair. It was her day and they were off partying and she'd been kicked out of the bar (she frowned down at her bruised right hand), and they had decided to just leave her out here.

The tipsy newly twenty-three year old sighed softly, spreading out along the sidewalk, her green eyes never leaving the heavens above.