If only there were people, she mused, carelessly digging her fingers into the couch pillow across her stomach, I would know where I was if only there were people here.
People tell us where we are, when, what reality we live in; everything she knew about the world she got from clues from people. Therefore, without people, our soon-to-be-hero was lost.
And she found herself lost so often recently. Friends seemed to flee from her in terror or towards selfishness. She just wanted to be around people, surrounded. That was all she wanted.
And it was all perpetuated from a desire for chaos.
Our hero was a master of her own thoughts and feelings. She was a creature governed by rules, by discipline and, though necessary, it was not a necessity she cared for. Her everything was entirely and completely predictable. And she loathed that.
People, however, were unpredictable, so long as she kept a variety of people around her so she never truly got used to them. Glorious. That was her word for people. It was glorious to her that beings could exist with such beauty and inconsistency that any pattern of behavior they might exhibit could be, at any point or place or time, without warning or care, recklessly abandoned or changed forever. This was the true and utter thrill of life. Mortality, not of the flesh, but of character. For good or Il, ideas, morals, trains of thought, all gone in a flash. Chaos.
However, alone, our hero grew angry and defiant. And that could be motivation for chaos, which it was.
I can be chaos as well.
So, an adventure began. She had the ability to at any point change her life forever, so she chose to. She chose to move, to start again, and to become a hero. Just because she could.
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