Disclaimer: I don't own Harvest Moon.

Note: Rated T for themes.

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Hegira

By: Aishitewu

"Sorry, I…I can't marry you, Claire."

Sometimes, she didn't want to be able to love anymore. Because to love was to set yourself up for hurt.

"I understand."

Sometimes, she wanted more than anything for her heart and thoughts to freeze, forever locked in an impenetrable icy prison, never being able to beat for anyone again. Because to never love again was to never hurt again.

To deflect the painful knife that was cutting her chest open right now.

Ah, the agony of unreciprocated love.

"I-I'm really sorry. You're important to me, Claire, but not just in…that way."

She nodded, but his voice was already fading into the distance. Her feet were carrying her to a river, a river that would always flow, a river that had never met pain before and never would. A lucky, lucky river.

The feather, slipping from her hands, floated into the water, blue blending with blue. She barely cared that two seasons of farm work—two wasted seasons—were now being carried away on the current.

Were there tears in her eyes? No.

She was smiling. Because now, she knew. The aching throbbing in her breast had only hurt for a little while. Once she learned to embrace it, it changed from pain to ecstasy. Utter ecstasy. Because if she hurt, if she felt, that meant one thing, she knew.

She knew that she was human.

Meaning, as a human, she was delicate, vulnerable. Meaning, as a human, there was one way to escape the pain foolish hope caused. One way to freeze her heart forever, to sleep dreamlessly in a black slumber.

She found herself at her house, thoughts blank as she reached underneath her pillow. Her fingers touched the chilly grip of a handgun.

If any wild dogs come, or any other troublesome animals, y'know, just shoot at the sky to scare them away. Or, if the situation deems it necessary, shoot at the animal. She remembered how wide her eyes had gotten then; she'd absolutely hated the sound of a gunshot.

There were other uses for guns, she knew, and right now, it seemed that the sound of a gunshot would surpass the sweetest of all melodies.

She pulled it out. It was captivating in the light, her beautiful escape.

And as she gazed at it, she realized she wasn't scared. No, not at all. In fact, quite the opposite. Her heart was thudding its final pulses with enthusiasm.

Before she went on to end it all, she wanted to die with a smile. She let the memories play out, one by one, before her. The thought of everyone mourning for her death illogically sounded appealing and only added to her twisted excitement. Their tears would all be foolish, she told herself. They, with their simplemindedness, would not be able to understand that the body they cried for was in a much better place than they were.

She pulled the trigger…

Fell back as locks on her forehead were tainted crimson…

And her heart never made another sound.

Claire, Claire—kind sapphire eyes that just warmed you all over they believed she would never be a victim to such an action…

They never thought she could be so breakable.

But it had happened. They grieved, trembling black figures before her grave, like she knew they would, over her eternally sleeping heart. A heart once so caring, giving, and kind, and now, dead.

After all, she was only human.

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Note: Just a quick drabble based on how I just feel on the verge of insanity sometimes, and how I want to escape it with death. But then I realize I've got years for learning ahead of me, and, unlike Claire in this, decide to live on, because really, we all have our moments when life's throwing crap at us and forcing the deception of hopelessness onto us.

But don't mind me, I'm just rambling.

Also, about the title, my dictionary claims it to mean "a journey to a more ideal or enjoyable place", so I decided to use it as the title.

Reviews would be awesome, but are not expected.