Sometimes Anemone sat around the house but most days she explored the city. She didn't know what she wanted to do with her life, or what she could do with her life. She didn't know anything, and she didn't remember anything. She didn't know she had options, and she certainly wouldn't know what they were. She knew she was Sailor Psyche and she knew her duty was to rid the city of monsters.
This was her entire purpose in life. It was all she knew. Other than some pieces of memories from past Psyche, Anemone didn't know anything about Theodora. She didn't know what her dreams or inspirations were. She didn't know what she wanted. What had her purpose in life been? Had she had a purpose in life? They weren't questions that truly plagued Anemone but sometimes they came up. It was usually because of something someone said, or something someone asked.
A question about her past? What school did she go to high school at? Where was she born? Where is her accent from? Are you listening to me? Do you understand me? Are you slow? Hello? There were so many questions, and not enough time to figure out the answers. It was simply easier to run away. She could escape her troubles. Her legs wouldn't betray her.
Anemone ran. She ran, and she ran until she could feel it in her lungs. It burned crisp with each breath but that did not stop her. She continued on, she didn't let it stop her. She would escape the voices as they plagued her mind. She wouldn't let them stop her so she ran, and she ran until she could feel it in her legs. They were legs accustomed to exercise. They were used to free running. They were used to parkour. They were used to doing all of the above in heels as Nickeline. She wasn't going to tire out quickly. She kept her pace, and she kept it steady.
It wasn't a short escape. She ran, and she ran until she couldn't feel it anymore. She couldn't feel her breath, and she couldn't feel her legs. She had no access to escape and then the questions found her. She could run and hide until she couldn't feel anymore but her mind was still sharp, her mind was still there. It didn't matter how far she ran, she could not escape herself. She couldn't avoid these questions; she couldn't escape them; and even if she didn't have answers for them, she couldn't deny them.
She would go home, and she would live her life as she could. Maybe tomorrow would be different. Maybe tomorrow she would discover a purpose. Maybe tomorrow she would know what it was that she dreamed of. Maybe someday she would find out who she was. Maybe someday she wouldn't have to run from herself.
