short stories for the broken hearted.

1.- the most powerful weapon.

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  There she sat, sobbing in her crème flowing toga. The fabric that wrapped around the goddesses' waist had created a pocket for the tears that dripped off her face. Gold streaks were left behind.

    Her world crashed and crumbled around her as thoughts swarmed through her powerful mind.    Am I willing to hurt everyone for him? Or leave and hurt him for everyone? What about me?

    The pure green irises blurred and blinked as her head spun. Her pale skin was covered in goosebumps.

    "He-," she mumbled. "He just left me here." Cries raced up her throat, threatening to escape. She quickly got up the cold marble ground and ran outside through the tall doors.

Rain bit at her body. Hard, wet bullets smashed against her skin.

    Soon she arrived in an alleyway, secluded. The clouds were angry tonight, much like she was. The emotions going on in her body were too much for her. She could feel her heart breaking, her breaths speeding up.

    Soon enough, she found herself sobbing. The echoes of her cries bounced off the close, tall, plain grey walls of the alleyway.

    Her throat was raw from the screams.

    Her body was losing strength, her knees buckling and sliding down to the smooth pavement.

    Being a goddess was supposed to be fun. Having all this power. She was one of the rulers. So why on Earth is stupid LOVE getting in the way.

    As she screamed until her voice was completely gone, she collapsed. Behind the mask, behind the pretty dresses and parties, there was still the confusion of love.

    Love. Worse than any villain. Worse than Kronos. Worse than some of the people in the underworld.

    But. Dear dear goddess. Didn't anyone tell you?

    Love is a killer. It takes any and every form. Makes you choose between the impossible.

    It's a killer. And you little goddess, is it's next victim.