Make sense out of this.
Neon the Catalyst no longer felt like she was responsible for any catalytic activities anymore, for she had unintentionally utilized several of her saved-up feelings—which she packed in nifty, purple bucket bags tucked safely in the depths of her emotional bank—on the wrong kind of investment. To have that much spent on something was very non-catalytic, especially since it was one of the catalyst’s ideals to never be involved or affected in any way. The said investment was a very bulky mass of appeal called Bigfoot.
Bigfoot, at first, was a platonic investment, for he was a wonderful addition to the collection of valuable knickknacks Neon liked to call Friends. Eventually, as the planet’s revolution went on, Bigfoot was positioned a notch higher in Friends, and almost bore the same title as Habano, who belonged to the eccentric sort and was a soul sister to Neon. Although, to say that the Bigfoot phenomenon had remained platonic within the span of nearly a year that he’d sauntered in her life was a massive lie.
While Habano was a safe investment, Bigfoot only wore the facade of safety. Underneath, he contained the very complex sort of clockwork that Neon was strangely attracted to. If the word ‘strangely’ was attached to a space before any word that described feelings closely related to love, it meant heaps of trouble. Neon had built a barrier to prevent the trouble from happening, but its intensity was that of an annihilating earthquake that it penetrated the chunky, concrete barrier with ease. The barrier’s elements were very identical to that of a human’s heart.
However, Bigfoot was codependent to a tiny sprite called Hitler, who garnered nearly all of his invested emotions. Neon knew this, of course, and decided to construct an effective filter to her attraction. Her filters were made out of a set of lovely niceties called Tens and Lans. The Lan set had been in her possession for almost four years before Bigfoot’s intervention. But then, to keep something that wasn’t even functioning very well for such a long time was bound to rot. And so, her filter began to deteriorate.
The Ten set was only semi-successful, because this set was the stubborn sort that liked to come and go at its own desire. Realizing she had only two faulty sets to sustain her filter, Neon became frustrated.
She sat on her favorite turtle-shaped chair, intently eyeing the Sudoku wallpaper plastered in front of her. Beneath her, nestling against her chair, were the empty purple bucket bags that were once filled with feelings supposedly reserved for the right investment.
The Bigfoot investment had seemed right. That’s why. But only because Neon chose to be blind to the Hitler baggage that came along to rid of the ache that always tugged at her whenever she was at Bigfoot’s company.
She snacked on revel bars secured in a wicker basket on her lap as she thought of all the stupid things she’d done to the Bigfoot investment, and sighed an exhausted sigh as her mental list of mistakes against Bigfoot continued to grow. Then, the list displayed one particular occurrence.
She had once handed Bigfoot a secret contract that presented the amount of her feelings, the ones that used to inhibit the purple bags by her feet. She didn’t know why she did it. Maybe because she had a tiny flicker of hope? But even the said contract had a losing proposition imprinted on it, and the minuscule specks of hope dusted on it had flown away.
As Neon recalled this, an inevitable surge of related events followed and played on her mind.
A partial Earth revolution after the contract anomaly, Bigfoot’s Hitler investment had turned shaky and came with it a strong force, infiltrating Neon’s barrier under Bigfoot’s supervision. Neon’s initial response was shock, but Hitler had with her a seed of rage and planted it on a small crack in the barrier. The rage grew—rage directed at the two investments for completely ruining her security.
But the rage didn’t last. Neon was too vulnerable to Bigfoot’s appeal and knew very little about Hitler, so she didn’t let the unwanted feeling dwell. But she continued to ache. Even more when Bigfoot and Hitler had sown good garments together, a representation of how strongly they felt for each other.
And even after another colossal complication between the two, when Bigfoot had decided to cut ties with his Hitler investment only a few sunrises after sowing good garments with her from when she targeted Neon’s barrier, Neon ached. Because the Bigfoot investment wasn’t hers to keep for long, and every being of him belonged to Hitler the sprite, who was once again sowing good garments with him. But this time, the garments were better.
All Neon could do was set Bigfoot aside and give him very little attention to save the marginal feelings she gathered for herself.
Even as her mind was busy formulating the right numbers to fill in the empty boxes in the grid on the Sudoku wallpaper across her, she thought of Bigfoot. Of how she had to let him go really soon before her hurt arose with the kind of ferocity she feared. He was a damn good investment, but spending her feelings on him was one of the dumbest things she’d done, for someone who considered herself fairly smart.
As she thought of all this, she munched on her revel bars and wondered about the kind of path the universe would sway her Bigfoot investment on.