after weighing out your options for a few minutes, you decide sitting by and waiting would be best. after all, that lake looks dangerous, with it's dark fluids that look like they're bubbling, and those woods have started to appear neverending. you don't trust either option. besides, waiting by for someone or something else has always worked wonders, right?

you sit back down in the dull grass, which has stopped acting like much of a sheild and more of a hinderence. you wait and wait for what feels like hours in the blistering heat, the suns cruel rays stabbing down at your back hurt like hellfire, but this has to lead to something.

'what if i leave and something meanigful happens and i miss it? what if this is the best option and everything else will lead to heartache or trouble?'

or maybe this idea of waiting is for nothing, and there is no secret or light at the end of the tunnel. your brain keeps arguing with itself and getting roasted in the steadily wilting grass seems to not do anything good for you.