Heathers Requests/One Shots

A Forest

This is a mainly a really short elemental introspection chapter, so... yeah. Hope you like it (I don't)!

Heather Chandler was a fire. A bright red fire, staring from the barest spark and blooming into a wildfire, taking control of everything and demanding attention. She captured everything, decimating her fuel with a burning passion.

No one knew how it started, but one day her anger exploded, destroying any feelings she may had had before, consuming everything in her path. Love and joy were shackled away behind flying sparks and unbearable heat.

Heather Duke was the fuel she prayed on, coming back only to get reduced to ashes. Her beautiful flowers and swirling vines being soon tainted with darkness, leaving blooms of bitterness. 

She was the rich earth, from the blackened grass to the shaking stones to the dormant volcano, burning with unreleased heat. Her leaves were shriveled and her petals nothing but ashes. Constantly being burned and destroyed by Heather's heat, bur always blooming back.

Heather McNamara was the sunlight, simply making everything more. More horrible, the burns more painful, or better, the light flowing calmly over everything. She made fire burn hotter, and made the plants more dead.

Veronica was the wind, the water, and the snow, calming and frigid and storming and everything bundled up into one. She was the relentless pounding rain and the mind-numbing cold and the hurricane winds. 

They balanced each other out, somewhat. Until a shadow entered, dark and cold and everywhere. J.D. blotted out the sunlight with storm clouds, stifling any light that could brighten up the dim landscape.

He extinguished Heather's fire, carefully crafted to burn long and hot. He darkened Heather Duke's already black vines, and muted out the rain and ice and snow, making them darker and harder and unforgiving.

It wasn't until that the plants were dark and curled and dry, until the sun was nearly set and the night reigned forever, until all of that that Veronica knew she had to stop everything.

It was a short age of tornadoes and hurricanes and vicious storms and blackouts, of elements clashing and terror descending and crashing. Tentative bursts of flame were lit and then disappeared. Small flakes of leaves turned green then faded back again. Small rays of light scattered then dissipated.

And the the sun rose again. Then the plants bloomed and thrived. Then the rivers flowed and the snow floated and the rain fell. The shadows were still there, lurking in places where they shouldn't. But whenever they tried to fester, they were always banished by the fact that the forest was finally free from the war it had been in for so long.

(421 words)