Renacida || Fili x MGIME OC ||

Off the Deep End

I spent the night at my parents' house and awoke early in the morning. I half-expected Fili to be beside me. When reality sunk in, a deep, yawning sadness threatened to consume me.

Then I got out of my old childhood bed, said my goodbyes, ignored my family's worry, and went back home.

The first thing I did was clean up the trail of clothes I left. I set my blades aside and fished out the single coin and quartz in my coat pocket. Everything else, including my Nikes, I bundled up and set aside to be burned.

I sent emails to my coordinator explaining why I couldn't go to Nepal, and I quickly typed up ideas to the congresswoman—but told her that I wouldn't be able to offer my involvement like we originally planned.

Before I left the house, I grabbed the Lord of the Rings movies. Because amidst all my woe, I had a plan, and I was going to follow through with it. My running partner never stipulated that I couldn't bring anything with me, nor that I couldn't go crazy over researching Middle-Earth and all its shit.

So that was what I'd do.

I had about seven thousand dollars in my bank account I could spend now that I wasn't traveling internationally. Usually, I would make a list outlining all the tasks I needed to accomplish like a well-organized adult, but I was in too big of a hurry to take the time. These two weeks were going to be a chaotic, stupid, mad dash to get everything done and ready.

And I had already wasted one day.

A day well-wasted, but still.

My body went on hyper-alert. I took a shower—actually enjoyed it, too—and got dressed into comfy clothes suitable for intense studying, staring at computer screens, and frantic errand-running.

Since I had so many fucking things to do, I just plucked one item out of my brain and went with it. Printer paper. I needed lots of it. Printer paper and Red Bull and a ton of mason jars and newspaper for wrapping, plus anything else I saw fit as an impulse buy.

So, Target run?

Target run.

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Five hundred bucks later, I came home with a car full of groceries that would hold me over for the next two weeks, as well as everything I bought for what I officially dubbed the Return. Target didn't have enough mason jars—but what was alright because everything else was in stock. I bought two cases of yellow Red Bull, two reams of paper, three cartridges of printer ink, the biggest binder I had ever seen, Polaroid film, lotions, shampoos, conditioners, body washes, and argan oils, as well as tennis shoes, leggings, shirts, and a handy dandy label maker.

I started up the Fellowship of the Ring on the tv, made myself a heaping bowl of Special K chocolate cereal, and took out a blank sheet of printer paper to begin jotting down notes. After that, I repeated the same with The Two Towers except with some microwaved tamales my mom sent home with me (my vegetarianism got put on hold explicitly and singularly for tamales), and then, when I needed to crack into the Red Bull, it was time for Return of the King. By the time I finished the trilogy, I had five pages' worth of crammed notes in semi-legible handwriting, all coded in different colors to differentiate from the madness.

It was all in Spanish, too, just to be precautious.

I slapped those papers through the three-hole puncher and stuck them in the Binder. By then, the sun was well on its way to rising through the window. I set a timer on my phone for two hours, pulled a blanket over me, and passed out.

-

The alarm went off. I jolted upright, put in the Fellowship again, toasted a bagel with cream cheese, and got onto Amazon. I ordered an asston of more mason jars and packaging paper, then went on to add an assortment of seeds to my cart. We were talking jalapenos, peppers, tomatoes, tomatillos, squash, corn, cilantro, oregano, rosemary, and every variegation in between.