n o v a (incomplete)

o n e

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o n e

The street was relatively quiet, with the occasional car driving over the rickety roads filled with potholes and uneven concrete. The lampposts guarding the pavements were old, standing tall and rusting brown. Only a dim yellow hue was emitted, many of them having been broken into and the bulbs being stolen, leaving smashed glass below.

The houses and flats in the nearby vicinity were all the same; small, worn and on the verge of collapse. The area was pretty run down, isolated for the most part. A lot of homes had been abandoned long ago, not having been enough for a family to live in. Those who remained didn't stay through their own will.

The night had reached its peak already, ink having bled into the sky and dark encompassing all, thick and heavy, a shroud not to be rid. It's murky and polluted, but even so a thousand stars still swim it. They're small pits of white, emitting streaks of erratic bright light. The swarm is accompanied by the moon, which is abnormally large with an ethereal misty white surface. It's beautiful, mirroring the landscape of a busy urban city lit up in the dark.

The female admiring the display thinks it's too pretty to ever allow eyes such as hers, in an area such as this, to lay upon it. She doesn't know why the stars and moon watch over her, but no complaints fall from her lips, utterly enchanted by it.

She pulls the thin blanket covering her form closer to her neck, legs curling harder into herself, eyes still stuck to the window a mere foot away from the bed. It once was covered by a curtain, but the material had ripped not long ago. Her window stood bare to the world now.

Nova had been awake for a while, rousing from her nap and refusing to get out of bed just yet. It had been a tiresome day; she had spent hours cleaning the house she lived in from top to bottom, scrubbing every single millimetre of the place, organising whatever could be done.

She was well aware she lived in a dump; a lot of things couldn't be fixed or cleaned to perfection. The walls had plaster and paint peeling from it, the furniture was worn and had some broken pieces, the carpet was matted and had long lost its fluffiness. The rooms were small and tiny, with only two bedrooms and a shared bathroom.

Nova didn't care to fix them any longer though, not when it was both a waste of money and time. She'd rather save up and get out of here altogether.

But it didn't mean she'd prison herself to a pigsty whilst residing here. Every speck of dust on the floors had gone, every inch of the kitchen counters and sink were polished to perfection, all the laundry had been done and folded, and the windows sheened with a sparkle.

It had taken her the bulk of the day, with the rest of it going towards her ongoing sketching for the newest project she'd been assigned. Nova had eventually given into the temptation to sleep, but with dark's arrival, she would have to get ready soon.

Her feet swing out of the sheets, body lifting from the lifeless mattress she rested on, limbs stretching hard and a yawn falling from her lips. Her arm scoops a towel and some sliders, heading to the bathroom across the hall and into the shower.

It's not a very long shower, her body scrubbed and hair kept dry – she didn't need to wash it this very night, instead just piling the messy waves into a bun on top of her head. Once coming into her room, her eyes find her phone, calming down when realising she had more than enough time. A black hoodie with grey sweats is pulled over after moisturising, form bending down to grab the duffel bag from under her bed.