Writing prompts

"Chaos is a friend of mine"

Prompt: Write a story based on the metaphor: "Chaos is a friend of mine".

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My father was never impressed with the people I chose to hang out with when I was younger. Jeremy was too loud and had a terrible habit of chewing with his mouth open. Sarah was curious and always insisted on hanging around my parents like a nosey little mouse instead of playing outside like a normal child. Phil had dyslexia, and God help us if his limited spelling skills rubbed off on me.

Not all of my friends deserve a nickname, though. Even now, eight years down the line, dad refers to Cassidy as Chaos. And, he does so with a scrunched up nose and his lips tightly pressed together.

Times like this, when I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of her steady breathing, I like to paint a picture of his Chaos-face right across my mind. For the life of me, even with his furrowed eyebrows and piercing glare before my inner eye, I can't see her in the same light as him.

Chaos wears her nickname like a crown, and carries it like a queen. She's a beautiful mess, consisting of countless cigarettes, poetic philosophy and sayings so snide that they sometimes get her in trouble before she even finishes the sentence. Though, to me that doesn't leave her qualified to be considered chaotic.

You see; I know her weakness. Chaos comes off as an unstoppable force by nature, destined to cause havoc wherever she goes. But it's really just an act. In reality, all she wants is to be held. Closely, protectively. Because even perfect storms have an element of peace to them. When her world is spinning around leaving her delirious, I like to think of myself as her counterpart - the calm in the middle of her storm.

My father sometimes eyes my hungover walk of shame to the fridge and my eyes framed with red and huffs in time with an imperious flick of the morning paper. He's never late to point out that my life will grow more and more chaotic as long as Chaos exists. There's a calm before the storm and a calm after it, he says, and in between there's nothing but pure destruction.

But he has never hugged someone so tight that just for a moment, the world just stops. Existence itself takes a deep breath and holds it as a broken heart gets an aspirin and a pack of band-aids to ease the pain, even if it's for a limited time.

I have. I have, and I wish with all that I am that I die before Chaos does. Her way of living is indicating otherwise, but I can't help thinking that if she's not around, who will calm the storm that she'll leave raging in me?

Chaos is a friend of mine. 

In fact, she's more than just a friend.

She's the calm before my storm.

And God help us when that storm breaks loose.