To Heaven and Hell

Chapter 23

Nix's Night

A moan escapes my lips. "Oh my God. Why do I even try to drink?" I pull my knees to my chest and ball my hands up in the fabric of my dress. I think I am going to be sick. I squeeze my eyes shut. Why? I suck in deep breaths of air. I hear footsteps coming back up the steps. I push myself up slowly up out of the fetal position on the floor.

"Greyson?" I whisper meekly. Alcohol has a strange effect on my body. It's like I've been shaken upside down for a long few minutes.

"Try again." The reply is distant but brought a substantial ringing to my ears. There is a sharp clack of heels. When my eyes meet black pumps they slowly travel over a long tanned leg which was cloaked in fabric.

"Andi? What are you doing here?" I grab the closest object to me and start to pull myself up. I slip a little but in a few seconds I stand.

"Doing what I have been dreaming of doing." I can see her lips start to twitch into a sneer but I never fully see her expression because a sharp blunt object is brought down on my head.

**

The scene changes to harsh rain pattering against a windowsill. I'm perched on my favorite window seat with worn blue pillows. There's sharp yells from downstairs but I focus on the pounding of the rain. Voices float from the metal air vents.

"Don't defend her! Dad, can't you see? I'm your child, not her!" There's a sharp voice that breaks every so often.

"Don't be ridiculous. Both of you are my blood and my children!"

I stand from my sitting position by pulling my knees from my chest. My feet don't pick up from the ground but shuffle against the wooden floor. There's a small creak as I open the bedroom on the end of the hall. The door lazily moves open. Andromeda's bed is half made and the duvet softly caresses the ground. Magazines are scattered across the ground, along with a few articles of clothing. A pill bottle lays on a dresser while half covered by a scarf. I push the soft fabric away and grab the bottle. I hold it up to the light.

Abidexin.

A diet pill. There's a few others placed in different areas of the dresser. Each are labeled with 'do not mix with other medications'. I look up. The mirror above has one long scratch running down it. When did that happen?

I stare at my reflection. At my wide baby doll eyes. They differ so much from from my sisters. Half sister, some days I forget. I move the pill bottle aside. There are assorted crumpled magazine pictures laying about. Before I had thought they were just pictures of friends, memories even. But they're models laid side by side. Each has a bird like body with small curves and graceful arches. One is defaced with a bold marker.

My short snooping session is caught short by the sound of feet pounding against the stairs. I quickly make my way out of the doorway.

"Nix." Andromeda says with an isolated and powerless breath.

"Sorry, just in the bathroom." I say in a hesitated whisper.

Her eyebrows are set in a sharp careless glance but underneath her eyes are the bold black streaks of mascara that are only brought by tears.

But even as I stare at my bedroom door I can not get the image written in jagged letter out of my mind.

"Angels are pretty

Graced with perfection

But can't feel the real pain of life

Until their red hearts beat with black."

The scene changes faster than the blink of an eye.

I am overwhelmed with the sharp smell of blood. It riots against my sense of smell and leaves me stuttering. I try hopelessly to hold in a shuddering cough but my body shakes. I sputter drops of blood that splatter against my white dress. In a sudden burst I find myself lying on the ground. The blood pools up against me. Although I am in a wide space, right next to that rainy window seat, I feel caustrophic. It's as if death himself is looking down upon me with beady eyes, preparing my body to resort to the shadows. I shudder as tears fall down my cheek. I feel like life has betrayed me as I cough up my own blood.

Like I am being left behind.

Scenes of my life don't flash behind my eyelids. I wish it were to distract me from pain. But no, I can only repeat a small little fragment in my head.

One I can't seem to remember where it came from at all.

"Angels are pretty

Graced with perfection

But can't feel the real pain of life

Until their red hearts beat with black."

**

Heat. Heat touches and runs down my body like soft kisses. I wildly move my eyes around but I can only interpret flames. I am encased by wild licking fire. I want to stand but I can only move my sight. I want to scream for help but I can't, my mouth refuses to cooperate with my mind.

Now I can't see at all. It must be a shadow moving over my face because out of the darkness I see bright eyes.

"It shall be done."

Now I can finally scream.

A/N: ahhh yes our hiatus is finally over!