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Prologue

Avery

I’d heard stories of near death experiences, although the tales never seemed to be the same Some say their life flashed before their eyes Others clai Then there were those who feltand path for their life

Me, I saw s

My son

Myself

My sins

The stars

And I also felt

The feeling wasn’t aboutout tome to co for ht I had died

But I rong

It was only the stars tellingof the end

Avery

Life is confusing

Life is hard

Life is… life

I wish life was more I wish it was like dreaazing up at the night sky, eagerly waiting to ht, but

Because if I don’t have stars and wishes then I have nothing

When I was younger, I often wondered if the stars were trying to whisper a secret to ht have beenthe real truth

Because even now, I don’t like the real truth

The truth is loud

The truth is ugly

The truth is hard

The truth is there’s a reason why I search for answers in the stars--because it’s the last thing my father ever told o of it et better

"Whenever you’re confused, Avery," he said before he gavein bed, the stars shining brightly outsideup at them as he wrapped me in his arms "Just look up at the stars They have the answers They’ll guide you to a better life"

"Really?" I asked, glancing hopefully at the ht sky outside my"Is that what you do?"

He nodded "All the tiirl, Avery A dreamer, like me Always hold onto that" He see me with so many unanswered questions, ones the stars never reply to no matter how hard I stare at them

Deep down, I know that the stars won’t ever answertrue It’s nice to dreaht now

Music screa to focus on the vivid stars sparkling in the darkened sky instead of what’s going on in the neighborhood But it’s difficult

It’s always difficult

A full-on rager is going on next door It’s well past four o’clock in the ive a damn about the noise It’s the h side of tohere I live I won’t coans, and in return, you won’t complain about mine That ruleon Loudness Little huddles Exchanges taking place on the corners of streets Everyone seeher own party downstairs at this verywith the neighbor’s deafening eive me a headache At sixteen-years-old, I feel more like an adult than the person who’s supposed to be raisinger and I can’t help wishing I can get out of this place and away fro the charcoal sky "Will I ever get out of here?"

They twinkle but don’t offer h, which is what I need right now

That and direction

"Turn the fking ry voices cause e