War Doesn't Stop For Love

Chapter 1- Veronica's POV

Part I
Before the War

Powers. Everyone wishes to have them but when you do you wish to get rid of them. I don't know if anyone else has them, but I do. Every time I use them a scar turns up somewhere. My eyes turn bright blue, I consist of the power of water and air. Life itself is on the tip of my fingertips, I could do anything with it. I could kill everyone in my path.

The story of my power goes as so, the planets and stars aligned on two days of all of the years that we were on Earth. A baby was born at that exact time that the planets and stars aligned. One time 21 years ago and another 18 years ago. I was the baby 18 years ago. Someone else out there is like me, dead or alive.

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The pavement hits my face as I fall, running away from my problems again. A stinging sensation hits my mouth and I touch my lip, the red hot blood stains my fingertips. Only a little blood. My eyes turn bright blue and I feel my power run through my body to help my lip heal.

Pain runs through my arm as a scar forms, a little line that looks like it was made from a knife. It hurts like hell, I have no idea why the scars form.

I tuck my cross necklace back under my shirt, when I noticed it had fallen out. A boy from my past gave it to me when we were little and promised to make me his bride. I will never forget about him.

I get up, my shoulder hitting the bark of the big oak tree. White flakes fall from the limbs of the tree, falling on my shoulders. Snow. I look down at my clothes, my jeans are ripped. Not ripped, torn, but not from my fall. Buttons or anything I could salvage to repair the jeans are pinned on there. I have been wearing the same clothes for years. My owners only buy me new clothes once every 5 years, they claim I don't grow.

Poverty has hit me. Not anyone else, just me. Everyone else here in the West is fine. But I was sold. I look up, as I wonder what went wrong in this crappy world. The gray sky is a shadow to the sun. The cold snow lays in a blanket, covering the ground.

"Get back to it, Veronica." I say, reminding myself.

A shiver goes down my spine as the curfew call rings throughout the air. "Streets are to be cleared in 5 minutes. We will use force if necessary."

The lamp post light flickers. Turning the world into darkness for tonight. I can't go back now. Merchants are going home with pennies in their pockets. My reward would feed their families for two lifetimes. God only knows what will happen if I go back. It's like being in hell. Except sadly, I'm not dead.

I run until I reach the gray mucky water. Catching my breath, I look out onto the horizon. In front of me lies the border between us and the other side. There are two sides, each is split in two by the river.

The river is something you can't cross without permission or you will start a war. The same war that made the sides and wiped out everyone in its path. Peace is inferior. Overrated. The blood on the walls reminds me of that. People say it's for fear, but they don't see that wars solve our problems. The scales are unbalanced and someone will cause the fault between the sides. It's just a matter of time before someone knocks them over.

War has not touched this icy ground in 100 years. I live on the West side, we have the most population and currency. One day a year we can cross the river. The East holds sales, balls, and other events, they really want to keep the peace.

There was a war that made mother nature supposedly upset and created a barrier a chosen few can cross or buyers from either side. That's what the legend says. Maybe the government just wants to keep us apart. It is the smart thing to do.