Well, this chapter is certainly an interesting one. Not very action-packed or long but there's some important backstory stuff that happens. Enjoy! :3
Nala had never feared being lonely. Though she maintained an air of independence, there was always her mother or father, before their unfortunate demise, her brother and his raucous band which assembled in the kitchen for dinner and practiced in the basement on Saturday nights, her dogs with their clownish antics and her only semi-trained horses with their personality quirks all of which served to drive away any negative thought on her relatively lonesome life. It wasn't exactly dull around young men, retired racehorses, and hard rock. Yet after her parents died, she sensed a change in the household, and in herself. Her brother lived with her, staying in his childhood room for most of the day and leaving for work at night. She usually tolerated his affinity for his room, but after her mother and father died, there seemed to be a nagging sense that tugged her soul. She didn't know exactly what it was, but it was strong enough to drive Nala to literally drag Louie from his room and plunk him down on the couch to watch the latest Doctor Who episode. Whatever it was, and Nala had a vague, dark suspicion, she knew it wasn't a good feeling, and she strove to master it, subdue it, control it, but there was somehow one strand that wriggled loose from her daily attempts at subjugation, multiplying in the night with each passing tick of the clock. She willed away the hours until Louie got home, staring often minutes on end until she heard the familiar slam of the screen door at the back porch.
After Louie and his band left for their New York gig, the incessant pressure grew worse. It was only after the adoption of her two dogs and subsequent horses that she realized the cause of the ache. It wasn't the sadness she had previously mistaken it for, nor the absence of love she had admonished on the three important people in her life. It was loneliness; in its most potent form. It grappled with her core workings, tweaking them to its advantage, making things mesh that shouldn't have, putting feelings where they shouldn't go, bitterness towards people she felt no hostility towards. No more was her life as orderly as it once had been. And things only spiraled more out of control when the chitari invaded New York.
At first, it was only a beer here and there, perhaps a night out. The dark cloud that fogged over her thoughts like the low-clinging mists that shrouded her valley town was lifted, if only for an hour or two, drowned out by the fuzzy stupor of being thoroughly drunk. It wasn't exactly rock bottom; Nala still had the family farm and most of her wits about her, but one day she snapped out of her hazy fever and cleaned the house. This wasn't what most experts would call therapy, and there was a great deal of cursing and disgruntled noises as she shifted through a year's worth of accumulated trash, and Nala was certainly not accustomed to such domestic activities, but it helped order her thoughts and reconnect ends that were misplaced before, both externally and internally. It was into this somewhat shaky state that Loki found her. He offered relief. More than that, a connection, however slight, with the outside world and making friendships. Nala had never been a social person, and Loki was definitely not what one would consider a friend worth having, but more than relief, he offered peace of mind, which was something Nala sorely needed. Though she pretended to be strong, she knew one secret that Loki would have to pry out of her cold dead hands.
Loneliness was a monster. A disease. A cancer that not only grew and thrived but throbbed with every heartbeat and tickled the very ends of her being, begging to be scratched. It either had to be beaten and stomped out or succumed to and dealt with. There was no in between when it came to craving human companionship. Animals could only go so far when there were humans concerned. Not only did loneliness cause Nala to lose herself, but her grip on reality. She should have recognized the stranger when she first ran him over. She should have doubled back and crushed his skull beneath her tires. She should have beaten his cold dead body until all his bones were broken and burned his corpse. But no matter how much she wanted to, there was still that one part of her that longed, wished for, dare she say it, craved his attention, his company, his presence.
Loki was a monster, there was no denying that, but so too was loneliness. And as of now, Loki was the monster she prefered.
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