The Leadership Journal

To Touch the Stars

To Touch the Stars By Aminata Touray, 12th grade

Jupiter was asleep in my arms, and I couldn't help but stare at her freckle-clad face in amazement. She was beautiful in many ways, which I couldn't manage to explain. I stroked her dyed curly hair, hoping that it would take some type of pain away from her fragile body. On her chest lay black-and-blue bruises, the size of a softball, that ached for hours at a time. Yet her hand, with her broken pinky, sat in my mind. I rubbed her knuckles, being gentle not to press down too hard or she would flinch. How could someone so beautiful be so perfectly broken? I sighed, shaking my head at the damaged angel in my arms. I remembered how we used to laugh

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