Her unfathomable mind was like a zany motion picture switching scenes at the speed of light; suddenly composed distractions were of no conflict to her, as vivid gray memories of her past slithered slowly throughout her mind. Oh, how she wished she could be arraigned from this adolescent yet ingenious past. This was the part of her past that was the extension cord of her thoughts. Just one movement (the plugging in of the cord) would create a cacophony of sounds, bringing the motion picture to life along with her worst fear: the fear of longevity—alone.