Quartzy's Submissions And Such

She sat there. For a while. She can't remember, or perhaps even comprehend, how long she was sitting there. It didn't really matter. She just knew that it was what she was meant to be doing, at least in this moment. It felt nice, to finally be in this state of peace. As though she had outrun the sticky, strangling, screeching chaos that had birthed her.

...Unfortunately, Anise's feelings of peace didn't last. Of course they couldn't.

When she had finally opened her eyes, perhaps subconsciously detecting the gradual change around her, she froze. The screeching, buzzing noises came back, the memories seeming loud enough to turn the entire mountain range into nothing more than dust. She saw as her goo, her horrible reminder of where she had come from, bled around her. Into the rock, into the water, everywhere, like an infection. She bounced back, the noise growing louder and louder in her mind. She started to come to a horrible conclusion -- there is no escape. No escape from the memories of where she had come from, no escape from the noise. But even for someone like her, that was a hard reality to accept. So, instead, she went off. Silently hoping for the impossible; to find somewhere she would find peace in without turning it into a horrible reminder of how she came to be.