p r o l o g u e ;

the start of it all

 

---

 

The world curled in on itself.

It twisted and writhed in agony for all that it was worth until it could take it no longer. The world gave up, letting its limbs relax and simply losing its grip on anything and everything. It slowly crumbled, bit by bit, deteriorating into nothing until all that was left was a glaring blank canvas abandoned for someone else to happen upon and create a world for themselves. Then they would be a god, and things would begin once again.

But that was the problem. No one came, and the world stayed blank for a long, long time.

White upon white covered the world. It was the only thing left. The lifeless color inhabited every nook and cranny of what was left of the poor little world that had once been so magnificent and colorful and evil. There was nothing left. There was nothing left to contaminate.

It was all white.

The world was lonely. The world was bored. White existed inside of it, but that was all that there was. Just that and nothing else, going on for who knows how long - for who was left to count? No one. People had tainted the world, yes, that much was true, but the world needed something to inhabit it. It needed something to ensure that the world itself was there. The world needed people to taint it once again, if only to confirm that yes, the world existed, and yes, the world could truly be tainted.

The world did not want to be blank anymore. It was horrible. It was so horrible to be waiting forever and ever just so someone could recreate what the world had once been. The world itself could not exactly remember why it had become so dull and plain in the first place, for who wants to be in such a state? It thought much better to be colorful and interesting and playful, where everyone was different and could add another aspect of themself into the world. Surely, whatever the past people had done, it must have been so bad. So, so bad. The world never wanted to become white. No, never again! And yet something about the people on the Earth before made it do so. Why?

The world really, really, did not want to be blank anymore. It could remember the feeling of being inhabited - of feeling alive. It loved that feeling, to provide anything and everything just so others could provide as well. But it was the source of everything. It was the beginning and the end and the world loved receiving the feeling of pure need.

"Please, oh please, someone come! Someone come here and need me!"

But no one listened. Not even Pluto - and that was saying something.

The world was getting impatient. It orbited around the Sun time and time again, and still the blankness of the Earth stayed with it, clinging on with no signs of letting go. Oh, how it hated the color white. The world despised it so much, so very much. The world needed to be needed. Heck, it wouldn't even mind being wanted. The world just had to have someone to come to it and use it.

 

*   *   *   *   *   *

 

The world, being impatient in waiting for someone else to come, created its own living being. It was about time! Of course, this person was certainly not perfect, for people had been gone for so long that it didn't even know what a person was supposed to look like. The world had never created something so complex before. Water? It could do that. Air? Oh, that was easy. Fire and Earth as well, they could be done with a snap of the fingers. But a human? No, it couldn't possibly be done perfectly. It was a hard process to get everything the world would need to make a so-called human.

"The gods of my past must have been very impressive," the world huffed as it created its very own person.

Feelings,

thoughts,

intelligence,

a nose,

a leg,

eyes,

oh, so many things to be needed.

But the world somehow managed to do it. The world had succeeded, and created its very own person.

"Hmm, she seems normal enough," said the Moon, who had humans roaming around before (and had a better memory than the world).

"But," the Moon continued, "this human seems...skinny? The humans I used to see were very white and bulky."

The world recoiled. Oh, how could the Moon say that? How inconsiderate! There was white all over the world, did it really expect the world to create something even more white? No. No, it simply could not be done. What a fool the Moon was, trying to talk to the world when it couldn't even fully orbit around the Sun like a planet was supposed to. The Moon was supposed to listen to the world, not the other way around!

"White? White? I shall not include white."

"But her skin is white," remarked the Moon.

The world whimpered as it cradled the human it had made. 

Now, what to name this human? 

"Love is important, isn't it?"

If the world could remember Love, then it must be important. Or was it bad? Maybe it was good? Or maybe it was both? Saying the word Love left a bittersweet taste inside the world's mouth. Love.

And so the world created Love.