Short stories

Iron in the stars

The girl was a beam of hope glowing softly, warmly, in the darkest night, becoming to those who wandered ever lost. Her spirit rose up and lifted others along with her. When her eyes lit up they out shined the brightest stars twinkling in the universe. When she smiled it shone so brilliantly that it was brighter than the unforgiving August sun in afternoon. The souls of others around her intertwined with hers and burrowed themselves in the warmth of her existence. She was a savior. She was loved. She was hated. The girl soon learned that wherever there's unrequited good, there is an equal and terrifying evil. The souls turned vicious, clouded in anger and the gnawing jealousy of her light. they tore her angel wings and turned her heart into a battlefield. She was strong. She stood as a marble pillar, supported by those still loyal to her. But even as a building as tall and unwavering as those built to withstand time, the slow, menacing swiping of metal claws came down upon her, eroding her away at speeds much more rapid than the movement of the earth. Her own world was beaten away, weathered by words of pure hate and the knives of cold judgement. Her magnificent structure tumbles, crumbling under the weight of inhumanity. Soon her world turned ugly, monstrous and empty. A husk of a souls devoid of compassion or sympathy. She looked at the world she had been given with disgust, and eventually began to tear it down herself. The stars snuffed out and the sun turned cold. Her life was sent into a bitter winter, fueled by her own bitterness against the world. She wondered to herself why when she gave love, they gave her the full power of their fiery eyes, filled with rage and determined to defile her beautiful world. The one she rose herself, built with her own hands, proof shown in the calluses on her hands and heart. She she retreated into herself, locked herself into a cage made of made of fear and bitterness to keep others out. She distanced herself from everyone else and told herself she was right. That she'd get better eventually. But that cage lowered deeper into the dark hole she'd dug for herself to hide from the world that'd been created, was too afraid to rebuild what she had made if those monsters were to only tear it down again. She stayed there, angry, afraid, ever wondering what she'd done to deserve all this. She was cold, always so, so cold. She thought there was no hope. That is, until that day. That day is the day she had finally had enough. She realized that she wasn't going to get better like this. She stood and rose like she used to when she still felt alive. She picked herself up and said she deserved better. She didn't need to wait for someone to rescue her. She worked away at the cold, iron resistors of her cage and threw herself at them until her body was as dark as the night sky. She didn't stop. When she was battered and frail, her body crumpled like a piece of paper, she broke the bars and let herself soar. She rose above the clouds into the sky. She She broke through the atmosphere to skip past the moon and land in the beautiful emptiness to dance with the stars, that twinkled once more, where she knew she deserved to be. She noticed that the world was so small before her and how big the space before her was. She noticed that the stars around her, now her friends, were made from the same iron that had kept her captive for so long. She realized how simple everything was, and reprimanded herself for treating herself that horribly as she floated through the universe, contemplating her surroundings more than she ever had before. She suddenly found comfort in the place she thought had forsaken her for so long. From then on she lived for herself and never let the knifes others aimed at her heart cut deep enough to ever hurt her again. She loved herself and loved others and wasn't afraid anymore. She was radiant. She was a survivor. She was free.