We're all here for different reasons, and some of us are here for a collection of reasons. I'm part of that "some."
I feel like there's this long chain of events that lead me here, maybe they were even set in motion when I was born. I don't know, I'm a into that "fate" thing. Kind of. I used to be super into it, but lately life's been kicking my ass, and since I'm-or I at least try to be a good person-karma doesn't make a whole lot of sense, huh? I guess I should say I WAS trying to be a good person, until...I wasn't. I know, specific.
Maybe I should back up a bit, collect my thoughts...
So, yes, fate might have been planning for me to be here all along, but I can pin point a couple huge factors that got me here: my family kicking me out, when I started dating him, when I broke up with him in my head but my heart wouldn't let him go, and just being a little bit less all my life. Someone else was always a little bit skinnier. A little bit prettier. Their hair just a little bit neater. The girl he was cheating on me with was just a little more willing to go "that far." She was just a little bit skinnier. She was a little bit better. She rubbed it in to my face just a little bit. But buddy, I was already close to my breaking point, a little bit was a little too much.
Looking back, I should've gone after the boy. I know that. But when it comes to him, my brain has this weird habit of not functioning right. So, I went after her, all I was going to do was make her a little less pretty.
And then I ran away. From them, from their friends, from the whole world. Running is kind of what I do. It just comes naturally, it's what I've been trained to do. Except this time, I got caught.
"Hey!" shouted a voice from very far away.
"Now, Alan, it wasn't nece-"
"Well, what are we supposed to do, Mom?" said a voice with a country accent, fading in and out, "What if she's dead?"
"Then my water was wasted for nothin'!" says the first voice, "Water can't wake the dead, dumbass!"
"Hello?" I called up, my voice choked from the dryness. I looked around to the all-too-familiar sight of the dirt walls of a five foot by five foot hole.
There was a beat of silence, then three heads poked their heads over the edge of the hole.
"Hey, she is alive," says the owner of the first voice, who's dark skinned with large glasses.
"Told you," said the one with the accent.
"Hello," chips the last voice. I recognize him from when I first got here, he's the counselor or something.
"Hey," I say sitting up.
Oh. Bad idea. The world is a sea of swirling black dots.
"What're you girl scouts doing, haven't you been gawking at that hole long enough? What, 'd you find something interesting?"
"Kind of," they mutter.
Mr. Sir comes up behind them.
"Well, looky there," he says, "We found our runaway."