People are generally good. They thus often aim for good, doing the right and acceptable things. Normal people don’t usually veer off to deliberately do evil, to hurt and destroy their kind.
But humans are just that, humans, they find themselves on the roads they never imagined walking on. Most retrace their footsteps and look for where they lost the road, re-join and go back home.
But some walk on, deciding to see how far the road would take them – and excited about the prospects of new experiences. They stay on the wrong road with reasons and justifications, convincing themselves they would return after the next stop? The next stop become the next village “how can I drive such a long distance and return before seeing a few places”.
Before they know it, they are at the most alluring, enticing, all-things-provided-for resort. There is so much going to think about anything, but fun.
Days turn into months, months into years.
What happened to me? How did I end up here?
They decide to live here for good and only visit their home once in a while. They are, however, convinced that everything here is wrong, the place, the people, the fun. But they have gone way too deep? Home is too dry, too routine, too backwards.
But when the curtains are drawn and the house falls silent, fear over powers them. They fear being found out, they fear that this life, at the wrong place, might just collapse. What would they become?
The inevitable arises. “Why didn’t I return earlier?”