hurts like heaven { viola + nova

[The morning grew gradually with dull, gray clouds that blocked the radiating sun behind their deep thickness. A traced silver lining reflected greatly off of my eyes as they wandered about, meeting the surface of a damned place that the heavens ruled over. Heavens.


It was always acceptable to question its existence, a place where only the good and pure of heart reside after death. Where they're watching over us, in even our darkest times. Factual, or myth, it was a place that didn't exist in my mind. For heaven is only a place beyond the sky, a vault in which the stars and the moon lay in peace. And a star is born when the undying light of another perishes along with the beat of their heart- Pixie Ruined is right there, the third star to the right.

"Pixie? Pixie Ruined! You're alive?
I thought you'd died for sure?"

The echoing background noise of a benighted soul rings in my ears. The sound of their voice pitches at an uneven tone, banging hard against my eardrum. The name that slips off their tongue sends sharp shards of broken memories, promises, hopes and dreams deep into my flesh. And it's the fact that blood doesn't pour out like it should, from the freshly open wounds, and it irritates me.


I come to a halt, my back turned to the body of the voice that was unleashed. Unleashed into releasing something that was help private, the name of a girl who was separated from us. Held six-feet under in a box that is kept locked with the key stored away in a place where one cannot reach. And forever, she is kept out of reach from us.

"I'm not her. Sorry to disappoint."

Faded smoke released from parted lips as the words and tone shot like a pistol in the persons direction. I faced the boy, my eyes piercing deep into his and the abyss will eat him up soon enough. I do not have the energy to deal with someone who steps into business that doesn't concern them.

"Oh-
I'm sorry miss, you just look li-"

"Stop.

I'm not her."]

The tendons in my arms in legs become sore, burning with a fiery sensation that ignites and races through nerves upon cue. My neck aches when rolled and the rest that I've been so heavily drained from shows under the deep, purple bags that lay under my eyes. A beat red tone blushes along my cheeks and the humidity that fills the air from the unforecasted down fall of rain sticks my hair and clothes like pasted glue to my body.


My boots leave the pathway that lays along the ground marked and trodden in its wake. The trail is mixed with mud that cakes along the bottom of my shoes. The messes made along the dirt and rocky road doesn't compare to the mess and injustice made by the Capitol. They whisked away the innocent to a life where death is promised, and life is only guaranteed to the only one who had the better chance. The one whose odds were in their favor, but only in favor when those who vied around them died along with the memories of a life once lived, and the shards of lost hopes and dreams diminished alongside them.


The wounds cut open only deteriorated as my body marched closer and closer to the resting place of a girl who is no more. Peacefully she rests further to the damned, than the surface, for I remain closer than deserving. Separated only by a coffin, I could still feel the emptiness and silence of footsteps as they trail along the pathway with me. The sensation is ethereal, and one could only know that Pixie walks an empty road, but I will forever be by her side more now than ever.


My legs feel like they're ready to collapse, and the lifetime I've walked doesn't hold a toll on it. For I could walk forever, but the purpose is what drags me down. And it is for a second thought that it's because she's so more deserving to live than I, but that is not how things played out in the long run. I shrink slightly in my steps as I approach the cast iron gate of the fallen, those who have risked their lives playing a game that called for more lives destroyed, than saved. "For every Capitol citizen that died in the war, two rebels will perish in their place."


A pit of uneasiness makes its mark once the gate pushes open along its hinges. The creaking sound rings in my ears, but leaves me un-noticing when it disrupts the silence that had fallen years ago. Never once has my foot stepped in this giant grave, making a mark along the trodden yard. The dying grass showed just how many people have come and gone throughout the years, sending their condolences to the ones who have perished in the games. But my mark is not one of these, however soon it will be, for the first time in a year.


Steady eyes trail from tombstone to tombstone, skimming over each one it passes, half curious as to whose they are, and half not caring. The only one they wish to find is that of a girl who'd once went by the last name of Ruined. A scavenger on a hunt for a needle in a hay stack. I finally meet with my desired target, only to be covered by a girl who weeps over her grave, offering fresh flowers to the dead. More than I could ever offer. For I've come with nothing to give, but my time. The girl goes by the last name of Ruined, however she's not Pixie, only Viola. A dear cousin that I'd hadn't seen for years to come.


I stop several steps behind her, unaware and uncaring if she's noticed my presence or not. I expect the worst to come from her mouth, for I haven't been there in times of need, and an excuse can't be made and fed to one whose blood runs with mine.

"Viola."

My voice ringing out sharp and steady, nervousness was swallowed long ago and it was time to finally face what I've hidden from for so long. However, my words trail off from mind and I'm left speechless, as though my tongue had been cut off then and there. I guess an "I'm sorry" is hard to say when you've got no excuse to follow through with it.