Her vertebrae propelled her to a sitting position. Her head jerked around, hoping her blurry eyes could capture her surroundings. It was the same familiar room, only pitch black. Lisa saw the vague outline of Lily's crib, where the lack of sound implied the infant was asleep.

After taking several deep breaths, she lowered herself down. Her face was beat with perspiration. The body and limbs broiled under the blanket's oppressive heat. And all she could wonder was how she would ever get back to sleep.

What was that dream all about? Lisa knew that they usually lacked meaning; dreams embodies the most primitive means of scaring people. But even with that knowledge, this series of images and sounds shocked her into fright.

And even aware of dream's fictitious nature, she also knew that in occasion, they could reflect proper perspectives or notions buried deep beneath the consciousness.

Lisa's hands clamped to her temples. Her body trembled as she told herself to forget what she had seen. Most dreams could be forgotten almost instantly upon awakening. She repeated mantra after mantra, anything that would facilitate the deletion. So this was why people of average intelligence preferred to forget. It was only when she needed the ability the most when she finally came around to appreciating it.

She should be rewarded, Lisa thought. She paid her dues, fought against every natural instinct just to reach her state of mind. She withstood person after person tell her to "act her age", put down the book, or assume that her giant glasses and glass beakers were a part of a dress up game. What was so bad with sinking down just this once for a little relief?

Immediately, she remembered Mama's eyes, trembling her puny form. She gripped her blanket, desperately hoping that it would make her feel better.

"I wish I could forget!" she told herself.

But how much? How much was she willing to expunge to achieve that soothing comfort she longed for? Suddenly, the thought of warming up under that soft fabric felt...nice.

Lisa caught yet another glimpse of the white mouse. Algernon, she recalled. As the rodent was tossed to the side and forgotten, Lisa imagined life as something so small and...cuddly. Algie sounded like a more appropriate name.

If this were any other time, Lisa would have scoffed at using a term so simplistic. That wasn't how mature minds communicated. And great minds also didn't think in terms of how much ignorant bliss their neurotransmitters could conjur.

But the room's darkness did all the talking right here. The world felt so still and isolating. Everything felt large and terrifying, like being lost in yawning space. Stars capable of shining brilliance were lightyears away, leaving whatever tinges reflecting off her too remote to make her feel better. It was moments like these that the emotions inside her took over.

Logically, that had to be the way it went. Without light, what else was there to hold her up? She needed the warmth in the cold vacuum. She needed the security in the overwhelming solitude.

And for once, she was content with that. Turning off her brain to drown in her emotions allowed her to enjoy the blanket's toasty welcome.

The morning rolled around. Lisa didn't remember slipping, but she also couldn't remember any intervening events. Sleep just happened and due to the events of last night, she was alright with that.

There was little shame in forgetting, Lisa told herself. If she had any hope of solving her issues, it started with adopting a new attitude. And feeling those haunting eyes and isolating darkness, change couldn't come soon enough.

Lisa hopped out of bed and passed by Lily's crib. Normally, the inevitable commute was quick and lacked serious consideration. But now, she found reason to admire that youthful baby still asleep. Her feet eased to a pause while her head turned towards the crib. As she stood there, lacking any tension in her body, Lisa thought to herself that such anxiety had been there just moments before. This was her antidote, she tried telling herself. Lisa found this calming, a reminder of how blissful a simple life can be.

And this was okay. It's supposed to be okay. If she kept telling herself that everything would work itself out, it would. No more worries, no more fears, no more expectations or hopes. Because she already has everything she needed. So why should she be upset?

Lisa forced herself to keep looking at Lily, even with her eyes yearning for her to blink. What happened to that inner tranquility? Even though the room felt warmer, she wanted to believe it was alright.

Soon enough, the baby did the deciding for her. Lily popped open her eyes and perked her head up. As those youthful eyes met her own, Lisa didn't know what to say. What did most people use to talk to each other? How could she break this awkward lull?

"Salutations!" she blurted out, swinging her arm across her chest to boot.

Did that work? At this point, her eyes wavered about. What was the matter? Now she couldn't even look Lily in the eye, the only person in the room that gave her that initial relaxation. Everything was falling apart.

"Poo poo," she heard.

Lisa paused. It wasn't much, but it was something, she supposed. And now that Lily was awake, Lisa ought to get some fresh air. Yes. Fresh air was good because...

What was the reason again? She stumbled towards the door, scrapping her brain for precious scientific details. But even as she dug, nothing can up. Not one fact. It was as if everything she had previously learned had been locked in a safe, including the number combination. So what did that leave her with? Her body, Lily, this bedroom, and whatever else she could sense. Bare, raw stimuli was all her body could process at this point. What good was that type of organism?

Impossible, Lisa thought. There was no way all her knowledge and skills could have disappeared in the night. She was just getting emotional again, the bane of any serious observer of the natural world. Why was she trapped in such an insignificant, cumbersome body that entangled her with all this unnecessary additions? What purpose did they serve?

And why were they so persuasive?

Was this state of being always in her, waiting to be unleashed? Was it all in her head? Lisa sighed, regretting her inability to answer the questions she posed.

Leaving the room sounded appropriate, and that she did. As she made her exit, her eyes caught sight of the door directly across. Lola and Lana. Two of the figures from her dream. She wanted to think it was just a spur of the moment decision that led her to note that obvious observation.

Shrugging to herself, Lisa thought that maybe it was worth exploring. Maybe those two were up to something fun.

As she made the few steps to that door, she reminded herself of how rare this moment was. It wasn't every day where she just spontaneously popped into any one of her siblings' rooms. Aside from a lack of interest, Lisa typically wasn't one to have to answer their inquiries on why she got in their personal space. But as she leaped up and yanked the doorknob down, she figured that maybe breaking routine wouldn't hurt.

Entering the room, Lisa saw Lola and Lana in different corners, each attending to their own activities. It was a miracle that those two could get along, despite the conflicting natures of their interests. Lola was in the middle of brushing the "hair" on her plastic doll while Lana dug her hands into a pile of mud she had dragged in. Indeed, a miracle it was. But it didn't take long for Lola to look up and spot her.

"What do you want?" she asked, mildly irritated.

Lisa took a deep breath and adjusted her glasses. She thought to herself how out of character it was for her to just show up unless it was for some intellectual inquiry or minor utility. But throwing aside all doubts of her actions, she proceeded.

"I notice you two are playing," she said tensely. Suddenly, her hands tightened as well, "May I join you?"

"Sure!" Lana interjected. Snapping her head to the opposite corner, Lisa noticed her older sister's incomplete grin, along with the patches of mud smeared on her cheeks.

Mud wasn't exactly something Lisa saw as a toy. After all, it was home to millions and millions of...well...earth worms (she knew they had a bigger, fancier name, but that was beside the point...right?). And the "earth worms" lived in the mud and they made it nice and good. Good enough to fling on walls and splatter on her clothes?

Then again, Lisa wasn't too sure how willing Lola was to touch those dolls. Having observed the sibling's behavior, Lisa deduced that Lola was particularly protective of her property and established firm boundaries around her territory.

Lisa continued to examine Lola stroke the doll's hair, the hairdo straightening with each brush. Lisa ended up in a lull, her mind too busy with that simple, repetitive motion to do anything else. The brush gave off a soothing rhythm. It made her forget about the silly dilemmas before her, letting her be completely in the moment.

"What are you looking at me for?" Lola interjected, snapping her head up. Immediately, Lisa propelled herself back to reality. It was only then that she realized that she had been completely out of it, "Play with her! And keep that gloop over there."

Embarassed, Lisa scurried towards Lana. It was crazy to even consider the possibility of stroking artificial hair. Such an activity was so repetitive anyway. It was nothing like being around this wet, gloopy heap of mud on the ground. Not at all!

"So what is the," Lisa said before trailing off. What was the word she was looking for, "purpose of this?"

Lana perked her face into that quintessential childish grin.

"I'm making a mud pie," she said, extending her dirty hands outwards, "It's not much 'cus it hasn't rained in a while, but it's somethin'!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Lana scooped a handful from the pile and extended it towards Lisa.

"Want some?"

Having sat in the House for several days, the odor wasn't as strong as a fresh stash. No hints of rained-on grass or animal "leavings". But a thin strand of the mud's source remained. A faint smell was all Lisa needed to envision herself out on the lawn in the middle of a storm. What difference did it make? She didn't mind it so much anymore. Something about seeing the mess before her tingled her heart. For some reason, she wanted to touch it.

And indeed, Lisa swiped the whole thing out of Lana's hand. Any previous disposition towards mud went out the metaphorical window. The cool soft material sunk into her open palm, giving her a relief she wished she had just days prior. Lisa didn't need to think about anything. She just wanted to feel better, to be absolutely free.

Who cared about washing her hands? She didn't even notice the bullets of mud dripping on her pants. In fact, she whipped her other hand onto the gloop, letting the tense skin meet the rich soil.

Both of her palms rotated, squishing the mud in the process. More of it seeped down the ridge of her hands, some of it splattering on the carpet while others ended up on her clothes. But Lisa didn't want to care.

This felt good, she told herself. Lana loved playing with mud, and look at her. She's happy. She enjoys life. She's a kid. Why couldn't Little Lisa just accept that she deserved the same?

Lisa turned down to the mush in her hands. Despite the residue all over her body, the mud remained a large, singular mass in her hands. What was she going to do with it now? Certainly, she couldn't keep rolling it around in that cramped space. She knew she would get bored at some point. But as much as kids like her knew how to find fun in the simplest things, they also knew how to pick up the pace. Who needed order and consistency anyway?

And then she got an idea. She found a quick surge of panicked excitement wash over her? Lisa took one look at Lana, who was in the process of lathering some of the mud along her arm. As she locked eyes on that unsuspecting face, Lisa found her lips rolling into a devious grin. Was she actually going to do it?

Without time to think it through, Lisa raised the arm with the mud and launched forward. Miraculously, the mud remained in tact as it flung through the air. It was a perfectly potent bomb propelled towards Lana's clean face.

Splat. Bullseye. Target hit.

Lana's eyes widened. It took her several seconds to register the impact. Her hands raced to her face to try and scrape off some of the excess.

Lisa couldn't help herself. She giggled incessently, proud of her well-timed chuck. This was just the adrenaline boost she needed.

By then, Lana was grinning.

"Looks like you're getting the hang of it," Lana said slyly as her fingers caressed the mud in her hand.

"Why thank you," Lisa said slowly. Suddenly, the laughter was a bit harder to get out. Her throat felt narrower, "there wasn't much to it. I simply took into account-"

Pow. Her glasses shot back, digging deep into her nose's bridge. Mud filled up her rims, making it impossible to see through them.

So that's how it went. For once, she didn't mind the mess, nor the fact that she failed to notice the barreling projectile. If she was going to be stuck in a river, she might as well swim.

"How about we move outside?" Lana suggested.

"Yes."

"Finally," she heard Lola say. Of course she would be relieved.

Besides, now Lisa didn't have to be trapped anymore. She could let go of everything that was bothering her before. Who cared about problems? Problems were for those with intelligence and maturity. Certainly Lana would grow up at some point and move on to something great. But let's not get lost in thought, Lisa told herself. This is supposed to be a fun day.

She has to keep going.

Wiping the rest of the mud off her glasses, she followed Lana down the stairs and around to the backyard. Oh yes, the same spot she had gone to collect stuff for smart person things. How could she forget?

"Now this is where the fun is," Lana declared, clamping her hands on her waist. Lisa gazed around, trying to find anything to pass the time. A tire swing, an excursion in the shed, letting Charles out to play. But before she could get any answers, Lana knelt down on the grass and lowered her head.

"What are you doing?" Lisa asked, approaching her.

"Checkin' on these little guys," she said as she lowered one of her filthy fingers into the dirt. An earthworm crawled up the appendage, curling along the finger's shape. It was a good thing their soft body couldn't cause actual construction. Once it settled down, Lana bounced to her feet and held it out, "His name's Larry. Wanna pet him?"

Lisa was hesitant. Normally, she would have been comfortable filling her hands with tons of these slimy creatures, taking their weight, feeling the coating on their...(what was the word)...outside, and analyzing their natural habitats. But now, the very thought of touching them felt weird. What was one to do?

"Come on," Lana said eagerly, "he doesn't bite."

Looking at the creature further, Lisa wasn't sure what to think. Sure it didn't have teeth, but it was slimey. She wasn't one to get her hands dirty.

"Oh wait..." Lisa thought as she remembered the mud on her face.

Well, she already went this far. Like the saying went, she supposed.

Lisa got on her knees and extended one of her fingers towards Lana's hand.

"Hey Larry," Lana said hushed, "this is my little sister Lisa. Go say 'hi'!"

The worm was slow to respond. At first, it just made tiny movements on Lana's hand, as if it was trying to make itself cozy. Lisa waited with baited breath, wondering if anything would change. Maybe Larry didn't like exposing itself to new surroundings? Was she really that unsettling? And what was Lana trying to accomplish here?

She looked up at her elder sister, who was too preoccupied focusing on the worm. Surely, she must have been wondering why Little Lisa suddenly decided to get down to her level. She'd imagine herself as often too self-important and prudish to get down in the mud for the simple sake of recreation. Or maybe Lana is waiting for the moment where Lisa would tell her this was just some kind of experiment. Perhaps Lana was anticipating something about the social dynamics of six-year-old children or how being hit in the face with mud would impact one's emotional state.

Surely, anyone Lana's age would have spit out that curiosity by now.

But it never came, just like the worm never wiggled to Lisa's finger. Lisa didn't know what to think about this.

"Lana," she said reluctantly.

That got her attention.

"Yeah?"

Now, she didn't know what she anticipated. Maybe it would have been just like when she asked Glausman a question. That gaze unifying burning curiousity and patient stillness made the process of seeking inquiry invigorating, as if she were tapping into another universe separate from the messiness everywhere else.

But seeing Lana cast that same look on her just made her more nervous. Lisa felt that no matter what came out of this, she would feel out of place in this setting. People didn't ask questions when they were playing like this. Curiosity was satiated not by bland discussion filled with words, but by stimulating emotions through the sights, sounds, smell, and texture. Nothing was right about any of this. But it was too late to turn back now.

"Do you think any of," she said before rolling her wrist, "this is even a little weird?"

There. She dropped it. Anything that happened next would come from a different motivation. Lisa just knew it. Indeed, Lana tilted her head forward, her lips as straight as a line.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Wasn't it obvious, Lisa figured. Surely, Lana had to be smart enough to piece this all together.

"You know...me coming out to play with you. Me not taking samples from beakers or making measurements," she said, "You know, objectives I would ordinarily conduct in the field."

Lana blinked several times. Maybe now Lisa would get some answers. Maybe she could finally have a real conversation, anything that would get her out of this messy situation. But then, Lana shook her head.

"Of course not. We all gotta have fun sometimes, right?" She said. Just like that, her childish grin popped back up while Larry wiggled around her dirty finger.

"But I'm Lisa Loud," she shot back, "I'm supposed to be a scientific professional, channeling her energy into uncovering all of the universe's unanswered questions. I've given so much to making myself an effective researcher that to do anything else falls outside my element. I'm lost without science!"

"Even eggheads need to take it easy once in a while," Lana said calmly.

Lisa couldn't believe her ears. Here she was, being given a free ride to do nothing productive. Scratch that, another free ride. This morning has filled her with nothing but nausea. Was this all really happening? Was there really mud on her hands and have the facts stored in her brain been incinerated.

But now wasn't the time to think. Sickness wasn't fun. Fun was fun. Lisa was going to enjoy herself, no matter how delirious it made her.

"What do you wanna do?"

Lana shrugged.

"How about tag?"

Of course. Nothing cleared one's thoughts more effectively than a nice, refreshing exercise. Once she got her body in motion, she would finally get the message.

"Tag! You're it!"

By goodness, it's already begun. Without even thinking, Lisa propelled her legs forward. Everything centered on one central goal: touch her sister with her sticky, disgusting hand. Just one touch. Lana certainly would. She started this crazy game.

But the other thing about Lana was speed. It wasn't Lisa's fault she had shorter legs than her sister. It wasn't her fault she hadn't found the time to exercise; she had wasted it thinking that studying would do her good. But none of that mattered anymore. She was attempting to come alive, to be one with her true self.

Inevitably, they ended up running in a circle. Lisa felt her momentum shift leftward, sucking into this endless cycle. Her shaky legs struggled to get a hold on the wet ground as the round force kept her moving. And yet, despite the dizzying whirlwind of motion, Lisa knew she was never going to catch up. For the briefest of moments, she thought there may have been some strategy that could break this automatic pattern and fix the problem.

How funny that was. Lisa dismissed any such possibility. This was the only way she could move. Forward and around. Forward and around.

It didn't matter that her breath was depleting. She had to keep going. She had to forget her struggle, run away from her worries, circle back around. Lisa thought doing this might make her escape the cycle. She couldn't bear this pain anymore.

By now, her footing quickly lost stability. Her legs flung in the air without coordination, creating mixed results on the miniature landings. Lisa's balance grew wobbly, her speed slowing. It couldn't be. She had to keep pushing forward. This was fun. She never felt more alive.

She couldn't continue. Lisa caved inward, and slid forward. Her body collapsed onto the wet grass, feeling the thud as she hit the ground. Her glasses pushed down her nose, but somehow stayed on undamaged. The pain was oddly faint.

"Yo. You okay, sis?" she heard Lana say.

Why did she stop? Lana should have kept going, not even noticing the little baby on the ground. It was her duty to dust herself off and keep going.

"Yes," She grumbled.

"I can get some ice for you."

"I'm fine."

She didn't hear anything after that. Instead, Lana entered her line of vision and sat down in front of her. What could her sister have possibly gained from this? Today was supposed to be a fun day, yet nothing about this produced even a little excitement. Lisa sighed as she pulled herself to a sitting position.

"Did you wanna take a break?" Lana asked.

She sadly nodded her head. Even Lana's face dampened a bit. Who ever thought emotions could communicate so well to other people. But even eggheads like her already knew that. Or did she?

"I'm gonna run inside real quick," Lana said as she climbed to her feet, "want some juice?"

"I'm all set."

"Okay."

As Lana raced inside, Lisa contemplated the blur of events. She got foggy visions of her Mama staring her down with those dreaded eyes. Her muddy hands trembled just seeing them before her. But they were only a dream. Right? And the mouse she chucked away. That didn't have any meaning whatsoever. It was a figment if her imagination. That story was eating her up again. But stories weren't real. After all, that procedure remained a piece of fiction.

So why did chills race up her spine? Why was all that pent up adrenaline flushing out of her body? Why was a voice telling her that this was to be her destiny? Her time was up and now she had to pay the price.

In exchange for a few flickering moments of unprecedented brilliance, Lisa was to be rewarded with an eternity of cold mud.