The world was never meant to survive me.

That idea followed me,fueled me,kept me going,pushing me to push the boundaries and make a difference ever since I was little.

But now I was reconsidering.

I was sitting in my room,typing up yet another story that probably won't be finished. Outside,the sun was in it’s daily prime,heating up the prairie with it’s slightly annoying heat. That had honestly yet to reach my room; I had no qualms with the fact. Lively and vibrant filtered through my laptop’s speakers as I worked,following along a playlist I made just for this occasion.

Beside me,my unfinished math assignment sat unopened,serving it’s usual purpose as a table for my phone. My bed served as an odd version of a desk,I worked in a typing fever,as I almost always did when I needed to get something off my mind.

The night before,I suffered an anxiety ramp. One of the worst ones,making some part of my brain believe some sort of supernatural force was in my room with me,or something was outside. Just waiting to kill me.

I didn’t know what sparked it this time-was it watching all of those mythological and historical videos the day before? Was I suffering from some sort of insanity from lack of sleep? Whatever the case,it kept me up until the early hours of the morning,with one of my brighter lights on,and the increasing fear that held me in it’s grip.

Even then,as I typed,I felt it’s presence in the back of my mind,a fog of constant fight-or-flight nerves. Even though it was broad daylight,and I could clearly see there was no threat.

I paused,allowing myself to think as faintly,I heard a car drive past our driveway. A common enough occurrence,however mildly maddening.

I leaned back,rubbing my eyes,and forced my mind onto the first thing I thought of-Assassin’s Creed.Yeah,I was low on ideas. The game was the only one I remember being ACTUALLY invested in that wasn’t forced by my little sister. The amount of history and sci-fi was enough to keep me intrigued as I played,bending my own rule of violence. For some reason,I was completely fine with the fights in the game,even relishing the feeling of taking out an oppressive force in-game. Even though elsewhere,I’d say to go kill the head of the group first,as the rest are sheep. 

Dangerous,martially trained sheep,but still sheep.

I began to type again when I heard a conversation outside my door. My anxiety ramped. I was alone in the house-these were either spirits of some sort,or worse-burglars that had gotten past the dogs at the door. Who would have clearly heard my typing and my music.

I began to sit up slowly,sliding the laptop onto the bed as I prepared to fight the intruders,my nerves shaking like aspen leaves.

As soon as the laptop fully was on the bed,the door to my room burst open,revealing the people,now that I think about it,were doing a pretty bad job at sneaking into my house in the first place. 

But I didn’t pay that any mind as I got a good look at these people. 

I thought I went crazy-these people were fictional,however much I wanted them to be real. Right?

Bucky Barnes was the first in,stumbling slightly since he was being pushed by Sam Wilson. Behind those two,Loki peeked in,his arms crossed sullenly even though his face showed slight curiosity. 

It was utter silence-just the three of us,staring at each other like we all grew wings. Finally,Loki huffed,changing into a cat to get past the other two,turning back into a human to say, “Look Midgardian,I am Loki of Asgard. These two are James Barnes and Samuel Wilson,” He gestured to the two behind him,who give him dirty looks. “-and according to them,so far your story has strayed far from your true home,which,no,isn’t here,but in the Avengers Compound.”

I tilted my head,confused,before shrugging. “When do we leave?”