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°°°
It's startling to realize how something as simple as the time of day changes the perception of our surroundings.
These vast woods stressed for millions of miles but it would seem as if I have walked in them countless of times. My footprints etched into the rough ground was solid proof of that statement.
When the sun was up I knew another being was watching over me.I felt protected from the horriyfing monsters I knew slithered here or there. They were always hiding behind a tree secretly watching its prey.
At night the opened space of life conjured up a dreary appearance. Temperatures dropping, goosebumps raised to attention, twigs snapping, and the monster attacking its prey.
But here I felt at ease.
"What are you thinking about?" A voice broke through the veil of deafening silence.
I breathed out intrigued by the puff of air in the coldness.
"It's nothing." Dismissing it without a shake of the head. I slowly encased my hands in my pockets seeking the delightful warmth.
"Is it Senior year?" He relentlessly asked. "Cause you know that's nothing. It'll be easy."
Comforting words.
"No, it's not that. It was something Deaton said. Regression to the mean." I supplied.
He squinted hard at me, searching for an answer.
"What's it mean?" Curiosity laced his voice in intricate patterns.
"Life can't be too good or too bad. It will always comes back to the middle." I explained, the hair on the back of my neck raised uncomfortably.
I frowned in dread.
"So when I think of the past months things have been good."
"Right." He drummed his fingers on the hood of the car. The blue paint was peeling off gradually, and the headlights had little cracks from past adventures.
" At one point the scale going to tip. Things are either going to get really good or really bad." I concluded.
"Scott?" He looked at me searchingly. "What is it?"
I just smiled and shook my head. I layed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
