the stars in the sky will reply with advice {riven's dp}

Riven Fowley

In. Out. In. Out.

In theory, it should be simple. But it seems my lungs have forgotten how to breath.

A cough escapes my throat, bubbling, and I roll on to my side, fingers clutching grass that's too green to be real. Everything is vibrant, glaring, and I don't think it's the drugs. They've left my system, or at least, I think they have.

I don't know where my three-headed monster went. I just hope she doesn't come back.

In. Out. In. Out.

Come on, you can do it I can't.

Sunlight pierces through blades of grass, hitting my vision and causing the air to dance in front of me. I tighten a fist and then loosen it flat across the ground.

This is supposed to hurt, isn't it? I always thought it would. I can see it, I suppose, the hurt. It's in my shaking fingers and blood-stained skin and heaving lungs. But I can't feel it. I should, but I can't.

In. Out. In. Out.

There's something lifting from my shoulders, something that's been holding me down and now, all of the sudden, it's releasing me. It's Atlas, isn't it? Atlas and Gentian and Gabby. I never wanted to be a killer. But I suppose I couldn't really avoid that, when I decided to take part in a fight to the death.

(Gabby.)

Anise's voice screams inside my skull, her hands push me back and I collide with the ground. Wide brown eyes and horror and pain.

(Atlas, Gentian...)

Brown eyes again but different. Anger and hurt and betrayal. Bouncy curls and spitfire words that used to be a comforting flame. The inferno has died down again, or at least, I think it has.

In. Out. In. Out.

Salome and Anise breathed the names of those they cared about when they died. No one is calling my name. Does that mean no one cares? I suppose that shouldn't surprise me, and really, it doesn't. They all knew I was going to die sooner or later. Even I knew it.

Something is dripping down my chin and I reach up to wipe it away. Grey eyes glance at the back of my hand, and I frown, because I don't think I've been using red paint recently.

I want to go home.

I try to say it out loud, but all that comes out is a garbled cough and a gasp for air. Perhaps the sky here really is the ocean, because it sounds far more like I'm drowning than anything else.

There's one door between this reality and the next, and it only opens from the inside. Once you're out, you can't get back in.

I think I'm alright with that. I don't really want to get back in. A change will be nice, a rest from all the pain and the hurt and the betrayal and the death. In a way, it's all reversed on that side, isn't it? Maybe it's more of a mirror than a door.

In. Out. In. Out.

My hands move up to my head and clutch at my hair, my eyes squeezing shut and I don't think blood is the only thing staining my face now. I keep telling myself, over and over and over again, it will be nice over there, I promise.

Aren't promises meant to be made between two people?

What if this one isn't valid?

It isn't all so bad here. There's people like Wylla, and Lucas, and Salome. They make things a little easier, I think. They can make me forget I'm here and I can almost be a child again.

Almost.

Almost this, almost that. I'm almost a child. I almost got to go home. I almost lived. But I didn't, did I?

I never liked being alone. Yes, I liked being alone, but I didn't like being alone. I always hated loneliness. It ate at me, chewed me up from the inside until there was nothing left but a big gaping hole in the middle of my reality. I'm alone now, but I'm not alone. The hole has been filled in with smiles and laughter and warmth and I think what people call love.

In. Out. In. Out.

Sunlight blurs my vision and I can't pick out individual blades of grass anymore.

What I can see are their smiles. Warm, friendly, caring. My hands clutch around my stomach and I'm gasping for air but they're here. Wylla and Lucas, standing nearby, watching me. Well, they're here in a way. They can't really be here, because they're less than solid and flickering in and out of reality.

"Don't...don't leave me." my words come out garbled, twisting in on themselves until they're choking the air out of me.

(You're still Riven.)

Am I?

(You're still my Riv.)

I guess that's all that matters.

I can't breath. Crap, I can't breath.

No, no, no, no, no, I'm not ready to go. I don't want to go. I want to see them again. I have to, I have to see them, I can't just...

I don’t need any words, just your company
Come and fly like the birds, just the moon and me
It will only be for a short time
Cause living is limited in this life of mine