The Dark Prince of the Hungry Star

To look at Christie, no one would ever believe she was a frail and fragile person. Her outward appearance was that of a sturdy figure with a healthy blush of pink undertones in her skin. When called to speak out loud, her voice had a deep loud boom so distinct she could not hide anywhere in a crowd.
She had green eyes that glittered like bright emeralds with tiny flecks of gold. Her lips were not pinched or parched. Instead, they were full and luscious. Christie’s mouth tempted many men to imagine kissing the curves of her smiles. Her breasts were of the type that reminded one of ripe melons in a field, and she displayed hips wide and full of promise she could delight even the most bored and jaded of men.
However, when Christie’s existence began and the complex process of genes meshed and melded, she emerged from the womb destined to be cursed with illnesses and upsets in her life. It was as if she had been born under a black star. A star so dark and dense it blocked out the heavens and the skies. This inky, heavy star would loom and envelop her in its steely, jealous grasp. It was as if its one wish was to destroy her happiness by robbing her of body, mind, and ultimately her soul.
The day harbored all that spring offered to everyone. There was a gentle, cool breeze and a tantalizing, warming sun. The pollen of budding flowers and trees painted buildings and cars with a happy, bright, yellow blanket. The dull browns and grays of the winter landscape were now dotted by hints of bashful, timid, green, new life.
Talk in the office areas was filled with energetic plans and joyful teasing of happiness. It was as if the warmth of the sun had melted the sourness of winter. People overflowed with kindness and compliments to one another.
However, the warmth and good tidings stopped at Christie’s door. Instead, she sat alone; absorbed by a unsettling silence in her life.