Artgirl

21// angel on fire

ARTGIRL 21: angel on fire

I strongly urge you to forget that you're a Wattpad reader for this chapter. I want you to see the world through Zoey's eyes and I hope, with all of my heart, that I succeed in doing so.

With love, hope you enjoy this chapter!

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"If someone does not want me it is not the end of the world. But if I do not want me, the world is nothing but endings." ―Nayyirah Waheed

Zoey Willow Hunter

THE WORLD DOES NOT END IN SLOW MOTION. Perhaps that is the only kindness it provides as it falls. It plays with hearts and sanity and wins every game, as luck only stands by the side of those who wish for it enough to make it happen. As each moment changes forever, it also break-dances with time, until everything crashes down on the dance floor.

In that case, the dance floor was my sanity.

My love of the world tiptoed around two things: love of others and love of art. If the two ever intertwined, I would have been the happiest person in the world. Then again, I doubted the person holding that title was happy all the time. Happiness was not everlasting; peace could be. It was a world of fighting or surrendering, and my white flag was buried under my scars.

Flames danced before my eyes, they waltzed until my head was burning too. I was scorched by the ashes of what I loved most, what kept me grounded, what I had dreamed of doing. A star decided to burn out on my dream and cause a mess by doing so. The stars were aligning against me, and I had no weapons to cross them. I had nothing to fight for Elisa, my love for art burned along with it.

As Elisa burned, smoke rose and every little thing flashed before my eyes. James. Harry Walters. Damaged hand. Heartbreak. Healing from heartbreak. But this was not heartbreak, this was a part of my heart burning along in the fire. My lungs were screaming for air, but maybe that was just the sound of my voice. A voice that sounded foreign to my ears, screaming as if a catastrophe had happened, as if I was dying.

According to my body, I was alive. My heart was pumping blood, my brain was functioning and my eyes could still see reality. I just did not want to see any of it. A nightmare with no escape, no amount of pinching could tear me away from this reality.

My legs melted as soon as I saw the smoke, as the fire consumed the adrenaline in my body. My skin was scorched by flying remnants of a dream that was destined to fall.

Adrian and Nico took turns holding me, my body was heavy and sluggish. Firefighters were there before I was, but they were the first to witness the downfall. They'd locate the source of the fire later and tell me, but I had to hear that from Nico. Vision and hearing blurred and fused until Nico's voice was my only anchor.

Even with soft sadness and tired eyes, her heart remained ever so warm. It kept me stable on my feet; but the rush of adrenaline in my veins made the ground shake. The loud child in me was pouncing around, but the adult my mother expected me to be was calm. (As calm as I could be.)

Her grip on the coffee mug was tight and I could see the million questions in her head. "Are you sure about this?

"Of course, mama. It's my dream. Can you really imagine me doing anything else?

"Zoey," my mother sighed. "I can imagine you doing anything. just know how badly art school hurt you; you didn't love it there. And now, you want to open a store here? It's a small town, sweetheart. I want more for you than it has to offer.