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6.53AM
6.28AM, 07/11/10
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From Eve Summers
I hate predictability.
I hate predictability.
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She had always hated it.
She hated boring. She hated normal. She liked fun, exciting and being active.
And it was because of this that it irritated her so. What perturbed her the most was that her predictability. More importantly, how predictable she was to him. It worried her, and also meant that she could be predictable to anyone, and that was boring and everything she didn't like and wanted to change. She didn't like knowing that she fell into a certain category and that it seemed so easy for him to tell exactly what she thought. It seemed so easy for him to point out things she hadn't even realized. Even after a long period of not seeing him, not talking to him, he still managed to deftly figure it out, to see past her. It was disturbing to think he knew her better than she herself did.
Especially when she thought, after all this time, she had changed.
When so many things happened and she had to accept her new identity, and as she faced so many new and out of the ordinary things. She even faced death, faced much more responsibility and changes. Or was it because she had dealt with it all and was tired of being a superhero that she wanted to go back to being normal? To go back to being plain and boring? Was that it? Was that how he still could identify those things in her that was invisible?
She abandoned her phone after that message. She was almost tempted; while wondering where to leave it, to drop it into the fish tank and tell the two fish swimming in there that this was how humans had to deal with their life. They were lucky to be just swimming without a care... and then she panicked. Was she envying them, the fish, of all things, when she thought the life of a fish was boring?
Instead, she switched it to silent mode and put it in her drawer, lest her mother heard the tell tale bubbly ring and got curious. She didn't want to think about how he would answer while she was in classes.
Even so, she couldn't concentrate anyway.
When she finally got home, trying to distract herself with a nightly patrol, the phone and the reply was waiting for her.
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11.07PM
10.56PM, 06/11/10
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From Adam Hale
A maze isn't called predictable when only one manages to weave through it but is still lost to it's secrets in the corners.
A maze isn't called predictable when only one manages to weave through it but is still lost to it's secrets in the corners.
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