~ The, not exactly, spiraling chaos. ~

Out of all the flavors, you chose to be salty.

A young girl-
Wait, never mind.
She was young and innocent at one dreadful point. That girl is dead now.
There is only the empty Void.
The salty bitch.

Void was sitting at her desk in the empty room of an office. It was a small closet actually, but that clearly didn't matter as long as it had some type of drawing utensils, laptop, and some paper. She was fine that way. She currently was typing something on her red laptop silently, her dead eyes scanning the screen under her long bangs. The room had no windows. The only light there was was the bright light of the laptop, brightness on high. She took a short swig of what looked like multicolored blood out of a plain black mug. Simple, but did the job. She heard her mother yell something from the distance of downstairs. The place she rarely visited. " FELISHA, GET TO BED. " She heard her mother yell. Ugh. Sleep is for the weak, and why did she use that name. She could've used any other name, but she chose that one. 'Wow, mom. Nice going.' she thought. " FINE, MOTHER. " She barked back lazily, as she groaned and got up from her chair. Once she somehow got to her feet without stumbling, and falling on her face. The tall, thin, bleached haired, silver eyed teen trudged out of her office, and back to her room. Ugh. Her room. Today she was much too lazy to complain about it. She quickly took off her rose gold hoodie and shorts, then tumbled into her queen sized bed.

She was alone.

Darkness.

Then light.
She snapped awake, her blank eyes focusing on her smooth, white ceiling. She stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, too lazy to get up, check her phone, or even pull on some clothing. It was clearly morning, but she didn't care. It was time to sleep in her time, but looks like she needs to get out of her empty bed. After what seemed like hours of staring, she got back to her feet. She pulled on some random clothing, a camouflage colored hoodie, some black tights with silver hieroglyphs embroidered in the sides, and some long ass white socks. She trudged into the bathroom silently, her two eyes blinking separately. A quirk of hers. She approached the mirror, and stared at her reflection. She looked like a monster in the morning. Her pale white hair was knotted and messy, her long bangs flipped back, her blank silver eyes glared at herself with pain and disgust, her regular lips dry and cracked. She snatched a brush from a metal cup, and started to tame the mane. After what felt like hours of struggle, she finally got her hair to look anywhere near normal. She washed her face quickly, making sure it was soft again. She silently applied some chapstick and then some raven black lipstick. Ugh. She looked goth again.
Go put on a black flower crown.
' Oh, good idea, voice in my head! ' She thought, the sarcastic tone thick in her mind. She definitely didn't put on a flower crown that day. Flowers are meant to be burned. She stepped downstairs silently, slumping down as she yawned, rubbing her dead eyes from under her bangs.
Thus started her day of absolute entropy.

Or not.