The Bolt

  • Check out the new CO Live videos!

  • Share your thoughts - enter a monthly drawing to win a $5 gift certificate by posting a comment.

  • Check out the Mobile Version on Your Phone

Filed under Charger Creations

Half Heaven, Half Hell

 “Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about un-becoming everything that isn’t really you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place.” -Unknown. Illustration licensed for reuse by Pinterest.

“Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about un-becoming everything that isn’t really you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place.” -Unknown. Illustration licensed for reuse by Pinterest.

“Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about un-becoming everything that isn’t really you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place.” -Unknown. Illustration licensed for reuse by Pinterest.

Hang on for a minute...we're trying to find some more stories you might like.

Email This Story

Two celestial beings crisscrossed the open sky, swimming in the open dark of glowing constellations and suspended memories of the here, now and everywhere. The sky swirled in mixes of the deepest of colors, fluttering to the sudden sparkle of a collision created by the celestial. Their names embedded in the oldest of scriptures and a language as old as the open sky itself. They were the ancients, creating and destroying.

And as they fell, so did their celestial bodies. Falling into the abyss of human memories and descending into the bodies of their human projections.

One fell into a river, ascending from the bank of creation.

And the other, the malevolent, descended into a cascade of destruction.

Anger and confusion had plagued her.

She was half heaven, half hell.

. . . .

Atarah sneered at the crescent that leveled over the darkening sky. It had been many moons since she had last seen the purple and orange smeared streaks of the transitioning sky from above the clouds. She stood at the edge of the ridge, casting a snide stare at the metropolitan landscape that had once belonged to countless gardens and the tallest oaks, holding the darkest and loveliest secrets that Cassian had been so willing to see away at the hands of man.

However, Atarah loved Cassian without reason.

The wind picked up around her, slightly picking up the ends of her slim, dark leather coat which fell just above her calves. She stood in a sheer blouse with matching red pants. Her silver-white hair was slicked back, her lips painted in the palest shade of pink and she wore gold hoops. Atarah gripped her nails against her palms, her hands in fists deep in the pockets of her jacket.

She awaited his arrival.

Finally, another breath matched hers, and the smallest curve of her lips hid the intentions of all her desires. The scruff of his beard caressed her neck as he placed the slightest kiss on her pale skin, as he brushed a hand down the curve of her resting arm. A reassuring caress. “I’m here,” he whispers.

He glowed in the soft sun, slowly fading from view just beyond the canyons. And as the last ray of sun gave way to nightfall, he straightened from his position. “I didn’t take so long this time, did I?” he teased knowing full well that his arrival was more than late.

“It’s business -don’t be sorry,” Atarah shifted beside him as they both began to stare off into the distant city lights. They stood just beyond the living, two constellations separated from their kin.

Atarah knew this meeting wasn’t business. She had called upon his presence because she had felt lonely. A cold, steadfast, beating heart that yearned for the warmth of his touch. He laughs, lowly, as if only to himself, brushing his curls back with the swift move of his hand.

There was no reason for them to be together.

Together they created and destroyed, sharing an unparalleled attraction to each other.

Atarah stood silently, pulling a cigarette from a case in a lonely pocket she hadn’t noticed before. She puffed gently, accepting the temporary warmth of mans creation, a tiny means of destruction that she cherished -aesthetically. “Atarah,” he waited, noticing her eyes fixated on the lights and life opening up below them.

“Atarah.” He called her name once more, but her eyes slowly shut, as she began to dream of swirling colors and colliding constellations, a memory she had cherished. “Atarah.” She fumbled slightly, the cigarette falling from her lips. Her khol etched lids opening to steel grey eyes, “I’ve completed my mission . . . I’m ascending.”

The world had become undone before her: the ground beneath them trembling slightly, while up above, swirls of night had welcomed a gathering tempest. Atarah had never realized their position in the mortal realm was temporary. ‘Without me’ were the two words that sprawled out across her head. She felt the need to digs her fingers through the ground, to strike a tree and watch the canyon burn. She felt the energy of the sky open up and furrowed her brows in anger. The only thoughts that had crossed a mind were Cassian and home, and home was not here.

“Protect the unrestrained and wild within you, love.”

He was gone.

The flitting flame within her vanquished.

She was broken.

She had fallen with his hand in hers, and here she was … alone.

She found her way down the canyon and trailed the night into the city, alone.

Atarah called for a cab and crawled into the backseat, gathering her legs to her chest, her head resting against the window pane. Tears pooled, but she fought them away. The emptiness within her felt like a screaming chasm of shattered glass. She crossed paths with lovers and loners, heartbreakers and a killer. Nobody needn’t worry for she had knelt at the corner of Sword and Cross Street, lifting her head up to the sky and screaming his name.

She would hold onto the memories to hold onto him, whether the destruction of all could possibly bring her back up into the mass of swirling constellations. She pressed her hand into the earth, the cobblestones ripping away from the ground and caving around her.

There were no screams, only silence.

Print Friendly, PDF & Email

Leave a Comment

If you want a picture to show with your comment, go get a gravatar.


Navigate Right
Navigate Left
  • Half Heaven, Half Hell

    Charger Creations

    Last Love

  • Half Heaven, Half Hell

    Charger Creations

    The Things Charter Oak Students Carried

  • Half Heaven, Half Hell

    Charger Creations

    Beauty in Life

  • Half Heaven, Half Hell

    Charger Creations


  • Half Heaven, Half Hell


    An open letter on massacres, regulations and the future

  • Half Heaven, Half Hell

    CO Update

    Valentine wall

  • Half Heaven, Half Hell

    Girl's Basketball

    Lady Chargers pull close game on Senior Night

  • Half Heaven, Half Hell

    CO Update

    Winter Rally

  • Half Heaven, Half Hell


    Nine athletes pursue careers on National Signing Day

  • Half Heaven, Half Hell

    Feature Articles

    Fly, Eagles, fly

The student news site of Charter Oak High School
Half Heaven, Half Hell