7 Minutes Heaven Novels & Stories

Chapter 7 “Don’t let me go, cause I’m tired of feeling alone,” - Don’t Let Me Go by Harry Styles The sounds were there. The beeping sounds, the human voices, the warmth of a hand clutching mine, the sound of sobbing and sniffling. They were all there. Was that how heaven sounded like? Because it doesn’t sound very happy. I tried to open my eyes but it didn’t work. I tried to move my hands but that didn’t work either. It felt like I was paralyzed. It felt like I was a stray soul dwelling in a dead body.

The gates of hell are opened for us by Stone and we all walk in together. The scenery is the same as Saturday night, blaring music, dark but lit up with LED lights in some areas, changing colors with the music, and of course topless women everywhere. Alina and Ellie previously told us that they’ll be hanging out with us for the first hour and then they need to go off to work. I’m trying to be more open-minded this time around and have fun for the sake of my best friend.

(Amanda Fernard) Even with so many problems, I put them aside a bit and watch my bare feet under the gray-colored wall as my body lies on the bed, as the music plays, my feet tapping to the beat and I swing my head from side to side as the absurdly loud melody of the music: O sétimo Hokage (The seventh hokage) - 7 minutoz, plays in my headphones. I have no idea how I haven't gone deaf yet. This is the part I am most identifying with at the moment:

*Clara’s p.o.v* The steam from my personal vanity mirror was still clearing, but the reflection staring back at me was already a disaster. My liquid eyeliner was uneven. My extensions weren't sitting flush against my crown. I had spent forty minutes trying to erase the dark circles under my eyes, but no amount of high-definition concealer could hide the fact that I hadn't slept more than two hours since we landed in Colorado. "Clara, honey, you need to step into the dress," my mother said, knocking gently on the cedar door of the master dressing suite. "The event coordinator says the lighting technicians are already testing the illumination on the frozen lake. The guests are descending."

She would see if she could fall asleep before she reached one thousand. By three thousand Millie was tearing her hair out. It was no use, she would just get up. The radio alarm at the side of her bed said five past four, and she pressed the button to turn the radio on. The news was just at an end, and the next song was 'Love To Be.' Millie listened carefully to the haunting melody of lost love, a man who found his true love and lost her to a silly argument. The voice sounded familiar, and she wasn't too surprised when she heard who it was. "Oh that Nick Henderson certainly knows how to break hearts," said the radio presenter "that's our record of the week, and now this is another fabulous si

Until whatever came next. Seven weeks. Starting now.

Heaven I rushed into the bathroom, my heart pounding as I found Chase on the floor, unconscious. "Chase! Wake up!" I shouted, my voice trembling with fear. Panicking, I grabbed my phone, hastily dialing Eden and Daven. "Guys, get over here now! Something's wrong with Chase!" I could hear the urgency in my own voice, a stark contrast to the carefree moments we had shared just the day before. Eden's voice crackled through the phone. "We're on our way, Heaven. Just hold on."

"The mass driver needs seven seconds to reach optimal launch velocity. I have to hold the target lock for seven seconds while the sky falls on our heads." Dax reached out, his rough, leather-clad fingers wrapping around the back of my neck, pulling my forehead to his. The smell of ozone, blood, and rain was burned into him. "Seven seconds," Dax promised, his amber eyes fierce. "I'll buy you ten." DING. The elevator doors parted. We stepped out onto the apocalypse.

Each mental note a stitch in a pattern only I could see. Seven minutes. That was all I needed.

The plane taxied onto the runway. The engines roared to life. I closed my eyes. Seven years ago, on a full moon night, he’d bitten the nape of my neck and whispered, "From this day forward, my soul is bound to yours." The moonlight spilled through the window onto our tangled bodies. I thought that was forever. Tonight, seven years later, I was severing that thread myself—a thread called "fate." I summoned the ancient power in my blood.