^Rune Kempton^D3 {FIN}

One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.

The beat repeats itself... chasing the beginning in a never ending loop of repetition. Rune listens to it in a trance, getting lost in the sweet sound of simplicity. At times like this she enjoys nothing other than simplicity, because there are times when her mind feels like its bending and all she can do is sit down and listen to the little metronome she carries around with her. It's a miniature beat counter, snatched from her father's violin case, but it fills her with a strange pleasure to listen to the beat.

As she sits upon her bed, feet dangling ever so slightly above the wooden floor, she knows she is wasting time, something she cannot stand doing. So after another round of four, she carefully stops the pendulum, and walks out the door. Her dark brown hair is carefully pulled into a pony tail, as to prevent any stray hairs to fall onto her face. Rune rarely allows her hair do be free, finding it unnecessary to look appealing when in reality she doesn't care what others may think of her. She prefers her hair be pulled back, forming a small arc above her head and a flat rug on her scalp. It may not be appealing, but it's practical, and practical is all she cares about.

Left, right. Left, right. Left, right.

She listens to the careful pattern of her legs as they take their longs strides down the hallway. It always amazes her how easy it is to find patterns in the simplest of things. Without breaking her pattern, she looks down at her watch and observes with scorn that she's a few minutes behind schedule. She should already be eating breakfast, not just getting to the bathroom. Her pace quickens as she rushes to get through her daily bathroom routine before scurrying down the stairs for a simple dreary breakfast.

Her father shoots her a dirty look as she shamefully bites into the jam-coated toast. Both of them pride themselves on never being behind, ever since she was a little girl.

She can still remember her father yanking on her arm when she was seven and imploring her to hurry up as to avoid behind late to school. They rushed through the streets, Dad cursing under his breath the entire way until they skidded to a stop with only seconds to spare. "We always need to be on time, Rune," He gently implored as he shoved her up the steps, "Otherwise nothing gets done in this world." She nodded vigorously, glad he had been kind enough to help me despite his own busy schedule. Rune gave him one last hug before scurrying into class, dark hair bouncing behind her small head.

It was the first time of many she'd mess up her father's intricate schedule. It was also the only time she never paid the price for it. Afterwards Dad made sure she always knew when she'd messed up. His hand print was often on her face after the days when she'd fouled her schedule and missed something. Years have passed since she was seven, but the same determination to always be on time had not left her father. The man was certain that the world was a complex clock, that would grind to a halt if anyone dared to be late.

It was hard to watch her younger siblings go through the same thing, seeing them face the same lessons she had learned beforehand, but she knew better than to dare to help them. They were on their own journey, and she wasn't going to be punished for their mistakes. It made her seem heartless, when she shamelessly passed the blame upon her younger siblings, but it wasn't worth the lashes.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The clock hands carefully made their way around the circle, taunting her with the knowledge she was behind. She shoveled the food into her mouth, wanting to launch from her seat and race off away from her father. Now just a few minutes behind, it seems as though she would be alright. Her brothers were already getting dressed, but her plain outfit was already laid out. She strode from her father's dark gaze as he took his final sip of black coffee, and into her room. The gray plain clothes were as dreary as she felt, but she slipped them on and out into the day.

She pretended like she didn't care as she checked her watch and saw with glee that she'd made it out of the house on time. 

As her small feet carried her tall frame down the cobblestone, Rune couldn't help but wonder if it was possible to make sense of her peers, whose hormones seemed to race so quickly and sporadically that they were reduced to stressed bundles of bone and muscle. Her large ears perked as she struggled to understand their chatter. "So hot... I wish... As if... A loser... Gay... Later... I heard..." She almost cried out in anger at their ridiculousness, the chaotic mess that they called their life. It was unbearable to listen to their ridiculous gibberish. She wanted to run all the way to school where it all made sense, but it was if she was pinned in the crowd like the schedule to her father's cork board. 

Rune wasn't one for dramatics. It's never been her style to draw attention to herself, but when the girl next to her went on for the fifth minute about how dreamy her boyfriend is she couldn't take it. "SHUT UP! Nobody cares about how much your boyfriend loves you! Just shut up for one minute, please!" THe girl stared in stunned silence, giving Rune precious seconds of bliss before scurrying off with her friends.

It was irritating beyond belief, it really was, being around these idiots but she'd make it work. Everything has a pattern, and it's her job to find it.