The Rhythm of Falling Stars

Amelia perched on the edge of the old, wooden dock, its rough planks familiar beneath her bare legs. The setting sun bled into the horizon, painting the sky in hues of apricot and lavender. Crickets chirped a steady rhythm, their song blending with the gentle lapping of waves against the pilings. This was her haven, a place where she could shed the weight of expectations and simply be. Amelia wasn't your typical seventeen-year-old. While her friends dreamt of prom dresses and college applications, Amelia dreamed of constellations and distant galaxies. She found solace in the vastness of the universe, its mysteries mirroring the uncertainties brewing within her own heart. Tonight, however, a different kind of restlessness pulsed through her veins. Tonight was the night of the annual Falling Star Festival, a tradition dating back generations in their small coastal town. Legend had it that on this particular night, when the celestial tapestry shimmered with fallen stars, wishes whispered to the sky held an extra dose of magic. Amelia, ever the skeptic, dismissed it as folklore. Yet, there was something undeniably alluring about the prospect of a wish granted under a canopy of starlight. A familiar voice broke through her reverie.