faithlesspaladin posted: " The martyred teenage girl sat atop the hill, looking out at the colors of red and blue battle for the sky as the sunset over the mountain plains, on the edge of winter and spring. Her head wound from the gunshot that had taken her life was still raw a" Read on blog or Reader faithlesspaladin Read on blog or Reader Puppets faithlesspaladin February 29 The martyred teenage girl sat atop the hill, looking out at the colors of red and blue battle for the sky as the sunset over the mountain plains, on the edge of winter and spring. Her head wound from the gunshot that had taken her life was still raw and open. Her auburn hair that all the hallowed depictions of her death portrayed as long and flowing, had actually been cut short for a play before her death. She had a gotten a navy blue hoodie, jeans and sneakers, and changed into them after escaping her grave. - I sat at her side. We shared cigarettes; Marlboro Lights, and watched the sun fall, the blue turn to red, and then turn to black, and the stars come twinkling out. I had thought of asking her questions, when I knew she would be returning. I had thought of asking if in heaven, only innocence and love remained of us, if hell was only the crucible that purified us. We sat in silence as the cold wind blew down from the sky, fresh from the stars above, and I just let her be, since martyrs are nothing but puppets on a string. Comment Like You can also reply to this email to leave a comment.

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