Picture yourself living in a world where the ground beneath your feet can disappear at any moment. Where the sky above you can suddenly turn red and the air around you can become toxic. It's a world where you're supposed to keep on going, as if everything is fine. Would you find a way to cope, or would you crumble under the weight of the constant uncertainty? It's enough to make you wonder if any of it really matters at all...

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It's important to indulge in life's simple pleasures. Like the sun gracing the Earth with its presence every single day, and I was there to witness it. In that way, I was part of a routine. We all were, uniformed into the same existential rut. For some, being part of such a mundane universal normality brought solace. I was one of those people.

Every morning, I rose in tandem with the sun as it crept over the horizon; it was as if my body knew what to do before my mind had even caught up. With a yawn, my feet lethargically found their way into the same pair of slippers as the morning before. My home was a picture of organization, alarmingly so, with everything in its place.

The slippers resided exactly two inches from the bed and four inches from the nightstand, waiting patiently for me to slip them on. My robe hung on the second hook in my closet. Not the first, not the third, it must be right in the middle for easy accessibility. It was a symphony of order, a reflection of the meticulous attention to detail that I applied to everything in my life. It was both my superpower and my chaos.

With my robe on, I made my way to the kitchen, my heart swelling with excitement. Every knife, pot, and pan was positioned just so, waiting to be put to use. Some might have found this laborious, but I dared not break the routine. That's not how things worked. Everything was as it must be.

I liked my coffee with hazelnut creamer and enough sugar to kill even the healthiest human being. It's funny; I used to hate coffee. I said it was, "the sludge only depressed adults with 9-5's drink." I had a much different opinion on it now. It kept me sharp and vigilant, two things that were very important to me. I was also, much to my displeasure, very much a part of the "depressed adults" club now.

The first sip was always the best. It singed my taste buds as it rolled past my lips, leaving a lingering warmth on its way down.

"Mmmm," I sighed, savoring its robust flavor. My fingers curling around the mug lovingly as I sit there in silence.

Morning coffees were one of the only things that brought me comfort anymore. That, and the Koi pond. Nestled cozily in my backyard, the Koi pond was my sanctuary. It was there that my three fish resided. I had yet to name them, as I knew better than to get attached to anyone or anything. Though, I was foolish to deny that I wasn't already attached to them. Those fish were my everything, and if anything ever happened to them, I couldn't bear to think of that.

Surrounding the pond was lush greenery as far as the eye can see; anyone would have called it heaven, quite frankly. In this forest, rain was a frequent visitor, but on rare occasions, the sun made an appearance. And when it did, the Koi pond transformed into a breathtaking spectacle.

The way the sun shone on the leaves, making each individual dewdrop glisten, the way the sounds of wildlife enjoying a day in the sun filled the air, and the way the blue skies played peek-a-boo through the canopy of trees. I always thought the fish look their most dazzling on those days; their brilliant colors on display like a peacock feathering his plumage for his beloved. Oh, how I loved those days...

Today, however, was not one of those days. On this day, the heavens unleashed their fury upon the world. A torrential downpour raged on, desecrating the surrounding area with an unrelenting force. Raindrops slammed against the windows like a haunting melody, singing of Mother Nature's anguish and despair. Lightning and thunder crashed in unison, forming a menacing percussion line that shook the very foundation of the earth. The storm was a masterpiece of terror, demanding my full attention.

I did just that as I stared out the sliding glass door at my poor Koi Pond, awash with worry over my fish. I tightened my grip on my coffee mug, uttering a silent prayer for them. If anything were to happen to them, I would most surely lose it. I mustn't dwell on that, though; it was best for everyone if I remained level-headed. Eager to divert my troubled thoughts, I found myself wandering toward my library. I could lose myself for hours among the shelves of books, and today was no exception.

The library, though not as extravagant as one may think, was quaint. Centrally located in my quiet abode, it was without a doubt my favorite room. The rich cream-colored walls welcomed you in, while the fireplace invited you to stay. But what really caught one's eye were the rows upon rows of antique oak wood shelves, carrying the weight of infinite knowledge within them.

I couldn't say I was proud of too many things in this life, but my book collection was definitely one of them. Each book had a unique story to tell, and with every page I turned, I discovered a new adventure. The library was where I went to escape reality.

As a young girl, I discovered the power of books and never looked back. My collection grew and grew over the years, like a tree stretching its branches toward the sky. Unlike my Koi fish, I openly loved and cherished my books because I couldn't hurt them. After a painful lesson, I only loved things that couldn't be hurt. My slippers, coffee, and books are the only things I could trust to never leave my side. Each book held a special place in my heart and served as my escape and solace.

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Despite the comfort and familiarity of reading my favorite books multiple times, a longing remained within me for something more. I yearned for new stories to explore, fresh characters to meet, and uncharted worlds to discover. The thought of venturing beyond the confines of my well-read books stirred a sense of excitement within me, a desire to delve deeper into the vast world of the unknown.

Though to do this, I would have to unveil the ancient boat in my garage and row all the way to the city where the closest bookstore is. This was absolutely out of the question. I couldn't risk being around other people with the monster inside of me. The mere thought of causing such devastation again made me shudder.

With a heavy heart, I resigned myself to picking up a book I'd read countless times before. As I settled in for the afternoon, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever be able to conquer the beast within and venture out into the world again.

The rain poured down in torrents, lashing against the windowpanes like angry fists. I huddled in my armchair, trying to distract myself from the gnawing fear in my gut. But it was no use. The storm outside was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It wasn't just rain; it was a malevolent force that seemed to have a personal vendetta against me.

As I peered out into the inky darkness, I couldn't help but think of my poor fish. They were trapped in the pond outside, defenseless against the vicious onslaught of the storm.

The wind howled like a banshee, rattling the windows in their frames. Lightning crackled across the sky, illuminating the landscape in a ghostly glow. For a moment, I thought I saw something moving in the shadows. Something that didn't belong. I couldn't shake the feeling that it was all connected. The rain, the wind, the darkness. And my fish, innocent victims caught in the crossfire.

I paused from my book, suddenly jolted out of my reverie by a sharp pain on my wrist. I looked down to see small claw marks etched into my skin like a poem. A surge of anxiety swept over me, and I realized that I'd been scratching myself without even realizing it. This was never a good sign.

When I got really anxious, I scratched myself. I had to find a way to calm down, and fast. I knew the only way this would happen was to ensure my fish will be okay. However, to do this, I would have to bring them inside.

This was no easy feat as Koi fish were not easy creatures to handle. They were larger, more delicate, and required more thought than simply relocating a run-of-the-mill goldfish. I didn't even know if I had anything big enough to hold them, but I had to try.

With a sense of urgency, I leapt up from my chair and begin to search frantically for something big enough. Lightning flashed outside, casting eerie shadows across the room as I tore through drawers and cabinets, searching for a suitable container. The thunder cackled at me menacingly, as if mocking my frantic efforts.

Finally, I landed upon a bucket I had used to clean my boat years ago. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. With a determined glint in my eye, I grabbed the bucket and began to fill it with water from the sink. I was careful to fill it just enough to cover their backs because I knew that Koi fish, when placed in too much water, would try to jump out.

As I worked, I couldn't help but marvel at how much I knew about these creatures I claimed to have no connection to. It was almost as if a part of me was intrinsically tied to them, a deep, unexplainable bond that defied logic.

Once the bucket was filled to the proper mark, I donned a raincoat and a trash bag, and rushed outside. I knew a trash bag was quite possibly the worst way to transport them, but it would have to do. With a deep breath, I made my way to the sliding glass door, steeling myself for the wrath of the storm.

The full force of the tempest hit me as soon as I stepped outside. Rain pelted my face, stinging my eyes and obscuring my already poor vision in the dead of night. The ferocious cold wind sank deep into my bones, sending a chill up my spine.

As I trudged through the howling wind and rain, I felt small and insignificant, a mere speck amid the storm. Yet, unbeknownst to me, I was the epitome of bravery—a lone figure standing against the forces of nature, a shining example of compassion and determination. If only I could see myself as I truly was—a hero in the face of danger.

But giving myself a pat on the back was the last thing on my mind. Shielding myself from the downpour with my free arm, I approached the pond. My heart twisted in my chest as I saw my fish swimming frantically, terrified by the storm raging around them. I hadn’t seen anything look so scared since… no, I couldn’t think about that now.

With trembling hands, I opened the trash bag and carefully lowered it into the water, praying it wouldn’t tear or break. The wind was picking up now, tree branches snapping in the distance. My heart raced as the stakes rose.

I swirled the bag anxiously, hoping they might swim in on their own, but quickly realized this was wishful thinking. Time running out, I took a more aggressive approach and scooped them up in one swift motion.

I felt bad for not being gentler with them, but now wasn’t the time. I sprinted to the door, flinging myself through the threshold like a marathon runner crossing the finish line.

I jogged to the bucket with my fish in tow, hoping I hadn’t been too rough in transporting them. I could sense their fear and anxiety, and knew they were in shock from the sudden transfer from their home to the bucket. Hastily pouring them into the bucket, I inspected them like a mother checking her wounded offspring.

As I watched my fish adjust to their new surroundings, a strange mixture of emotions bubbled up inside me. Relief that they had made it through the treacherous journey unscathed, and a deeper, more unsettling realization—a painful truth I had been avoiding for far too long. Despite the walls I had built around my heart, I was capable of caring deeply for another living being.

I had spent years convincing myself I didn’t need anyone or anything. But now, as I watched my fish swim, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of longing for the kind of love and connection I had denied myself for so long.

It was a terrifying realization, one that made me feel vulnerable and exposed. But deep down, I knew I couldn’t ignore these feelings forever. I would have to face them head-on, no matter how scary or painful it might be.

With my heart still racing and my mind buzzing, I collapsed onto the couch and let out a deep sigh. My body was exhausted from the adrenaline rush, but my mind was wide awake, replaying the events of the night over and over again. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment and relief that my fish were safe, but the lingering fear of the storm and the memories it brought with it kept me on edge. As I curled up on the couch, I knew that sleep would elude me for the night.