NAUGHTY ANGEL MACHINE FUCKING
Empty...I'm running behind. My feet carry me through the empty hallways of Van Buten College. I'm wearing a button up shirt over an under shirt, slacks, and my favorite par of black boots; though my boots are tattered and old. The halls are dimly light and there are no sighns of anyone, no people, no footsteps, no shadows. I've got my costume in my bag, nothing special, this year I'm dressing as a scarecrow. There's a restroom, I can change in there. I duck into the bathroom, a unisex one, it's dimly light like the rest of the school. It's a relatively large room, maybe 30 by 30 feet, there are urinals against the left wall, and stalls against the right, between them are sinks with mirror. A few feet away from the sink, near the center of the room, there are a few long thin benches along the length of the room. I lay my bag on one of the benches, and sit down beside it, I start untying my boots, getting ready to change for the party. I pull my boots off and lay them down. Perhaps the metaphorical stars aligned. Perhaps Meredith's body suddenly became perfectly in tune with the universe. Perhaps Meredith was, in private, an expert hacker who broke into the fundamentals of reality itself. Perhaps a healing ray invented by aliens to cure some form of their analogue of cancer misfired, the beam traveled across the universe and impacted a human--a member of a species wholly different in physiology and even chemical composition from the aliens who invented the ray--causing unforeseeable consequences. Any of these explanations might have been the case. But what is important is what they caused.Meredith Harrison woke up one morning with the absolute, certain knowledge that she was utterly, completely, irrevocably, unchallengeably omnipotent. (Knowing this, the reader might wonder whether her life prior to this was in fact always the case or if she had changed her own past to make it so. The reader might also wonder whether this is relevant given that truth is.
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