![Liberty (NYC)](https://forgottenlores.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/liberty-nyc.png?w=125)
Current Date: February 15, 2024
Character: Liberty Reinhart
Race: Human
Age: 30
Current residence: New York City Ruins, New York
Just a few days ago, I got another good proof that keeping to my own things, minding my own business and not being an arse to others was actually a dang good thing for me. When it’s quieter and the set out tasks are all done, I’m not going to lie, I’m not against settling on the little balcony that I know we’re lucky to have—not all buildings have them in the hub and some of those balconies weren’t viable, either—and just people-watch.
It’s not that I’m interested in hearing all of the gossip, it’s not even really about that. Most of the time, I end up tuning out what little I can hear, but even just watching people go by is weirdly soothing in a way that I can’t explain. I never was one to watch ants roaming but it feels a bit like that, even if I’m not so high up that the people do look like ants at all. We’re a few floors up but we’re still close enough that you can make out some of what people are saying, but only if they’re a little loud about it.
So, most of the time, I just watch them walk back and forth, I don’t know that I really pay attention to the people themselves, it’s mainly about the movement of the people. I’ve noticed that more than once, I tend to just go unfocused so it’s the blurry motion. I do that every so often, it’s just a thing.
Once in a blue moon, the people that will be walking by will be talking loudly enough that you can hear them from my spot, and it sort of distracts me from the whole staring-off thing that I’m trying to do. Not that I’m doing it on purpose, it’s just the thing that happens, anyway.
A couple—three, four, maybe—days ago, I was soaking up some sun, which you wouldn’t think I do for how pale I still am, but I do, and I’ve learned to use the cream we still have sparingly but enough to cover because I burn. I was minding my own business, staring off in the slight distance, the shapes of people roaming here and there blurry but present.
Then, out of nowhere, I hear a shrill voice calling out to someone that they needed to stop walking right this instant. That was jarring because it wasn’t just someone being loud, it was someone yelling. I did turn my attention to the scene, it was hard not to, and I did notice others who turned to look that way too. A pair of young women—teens, very likely—and both of them look relatively angry, one more than the other but I’m just assuming, here.
To make a long story short, all I really got from the yelling that was mainly one-sided as the other girl seemed to be trying to just leave, was about how something had been said that was really hurtful, but the yelling one knew she couldn’t take it but, but she also didn’t even really want to because she believed it was kind of deserved.
That, right there, I guess, is one of the reasons why I’m not a huge fan of surrounding myself with more people than is absolutely necessary. The people I surround myself with are people I trust with my life, and I can count these people on a single hand. I don’t want to get in any sort of fight with any of them that could result in whatever it was that was happening down there.
The girl on the receiving end of all that yelling certainly looked hurt for a few moments and I wondered if it would somehow end up turning violent. Both of them were shaking pretty hard from what I could only assume was rage of sorts—I could be wrong. I wouldn’t have been all that surprised if one of them had ended up swinging at the other but, turns out, the quiet one just ended up shaking her head and stalking away. I’m pretty sure the other one had more to say on the subject, she even started to rant at the first one’s retreating back but it was short-lived.
Maybe she just ran out of steam.
Seriously, though, I’ve seen things like these happen so often while I was younger and at school. You start to trust too many people, you open yourself up to all of these people and one of those days, you realize that you opened up to the wrong folks, that they’ve done or said things you wish they hadn’t and it’s something of a vicious circle.
Or maybe I just still prefer to see the glass half empty—or full, since it’s half air, half water—and that just suits me fine. I am who I am, why change me?