Megan
Megan Burns decided to change her name. This was not a particularly rash decision on her behalf. Her family had recently moved to the incredibly dismal town of Albany, Oregon. The town where nothing exciting happened and no one would care if it did. Adventure could slap Albany in the face and it wouldn't know it. A thing as trivial as an identity change couldn't be considered challenging in Albany.
"Lux Cardew," announced Megan to her family. "You may refer to me as such."
Her family responded with apprehensive faces and a confused silence. A palpable sense of disappointment and shame ruptured the air.
Megan acted oblivious to her family's evident mortification and continued talking to fill the silent void. "Lux is Latin for 'light' as to describe a star, and I am obviously a star, and I chose Cardew because Cecily Cardew is a character in the play "The Importance of Being Earnest" who is oblivious to the simplest things, an example being her husband's name, and I am a true believer that if you are oblivious to something, the thing does not exist, consequently making Cecily my favorite character."
"That's a run-on sentence," groaned Megan's sister.
"Thank you for that lovely point, Alexis. That impressive eye roll really demonstrated your excitement. But I, Lux Cardew, feel it is quite easier to speak in run on sentences than to deal with the burden of breathing between phrases."
Megan loved talking, so consequently, Megan hated breathing. Eliminating breathing would allow her to talk more, and Megan really loved talking. Unfortunately for Megan, her body needed oxygen to function. The doctors informed her of this after her third trip to the emergency room. To Megan's credit, she was able to say the words "Help" and "Me" before falling unconscious.
"Megan," sighed Lux's mother, Lisa, burrowing her face in her hands.
"Megan is such a profoundly dull name. How fortunate I don't know anyone of that title." As stated earlier, Lux believed that if she was oblivious to something, the thing did not exist. She thought Megan would disappear if she was oblivious to her.
"Really think about this. Are you just being complicated?" Lisa muttered in disapproval.
"Oh, absolutely!" chimed Lux.
"Absolutely what?"
"I am absolutely being complicated. Nothing is complicated in Albany and that is what makes it so very boring. I feel that a great complication like me may just show Albany what it's missing."
Silence.
Lux liked silence. Silence was an excuse for her to talk, and Lux really loved talking.
"If there are no further questions or comments I will proceed to my bedroom to change all the names on my school supplies before my first day tomorrow." Lux smiled an innocent smile. There was more silence, but Lux chose not to talk this time. Her point was clear.
The slam of Lux's bedroom door led to an explosion of chatter.
"Can you believe her?"
"How is she going to make friends?"
"Are you positive that she's mine?"
Lux listened with her ear pressed up against her door. She chuckled at the comments made. Albany just got a little bit more complicated.
The clamor subdued to a soft buzz, and Lux flopped on her bed. She stared up at the ceiling and felt the mattress mold to her figure. Cardboard boxes were stacked to the ceiling. A sea of bland brown was all Lux could see.
Lux had chosen not to participate in the unpacking frenzy. She had worn the same outfit for three nights straight and had slept on a mattress with no sheets or pillows.
It was the first day of 10th grade for her tomorrow. She was unprepared socially and mentally, but Lux didn't mind. Complication was a side effect of being unprepared, and complication was her goal. School would, however, force Lux to unpack a bit. She would do that later tonight. Procrastination was a choice that Lux would often choose. Procrastination was another thing that led to complication.
She yawned and rubbed her hooded eyes. Lux was profoundly tired. It proved difficult to sleep with heavy raindrops pounding at her rooftop each and every night. Oregon weather was only capable of one thing: rain. Lux truly believed that if the Oregon rain ceased, the world would cease with it.
Her eyelids grew heavy. Her body was still except for the rise and fall of her chest with each breath. Sleep was a very efficient form of procrastination. Lux inhaled once, deeply, before falling to sleep's gentle hand.
