What is the definition of nihilism?

Lucy Loud didn't really know the textbook definition, but she most certainly had her own interpretation of the philosophy. The world…her world… had no real meaning. The things she would do today are the things she was bound to do tomorrow, with little to no variation. Who's going to care about what happened two weeks ago, when two weeks later wouldn't be any different?

"Emptiness…nothingness…apathy…yep, I think that's about it." Lucy thought to herself as she trudged down the long stairs of the Loud household. After a brief pause and a trademark sigh, she turned towards the dining room area, taking one slow step after another past her dining room table.

As if on complete instinct, she pivoted around the corner of the table, circling around the table while quickly glancing out the window before continuing her slow, usual walk around the table. Without slowing down, Lucy turned her head towards the family trophy case. Behind those glass panes…what good were they? Those dim, tarnished goblets of imitation gold couldn't mean any less to the little gothic poet. What would they be worth next year, when new awards were won and distributed? Who would really care, anyway?

"Not me, that's for sure." She mused, continuing her walk around the table. She had just started on her second lap around the table when she heard a familiar voice address her from a distance.

"Hey Luce. On another one of your "thought-walk" sessions?"

Standing at the foot of the table where she started her lackluster journey was none other than Lincoln Loud, the poster boy for excessive optimism. While he was her brother, Lucy couldn't help but hate him, or at least that overly cheerful part of him. She simply ignored him as she continued her second lap around the table.

"Lincoln…if I ignore him, he'll just go away." Lucy didn't really have to think further about the subject. Knowing her brother as well as she did, she'd bet the house that he'd just lose interest eventually and return to his own sanctum on the top floor. And if he didn't? What would he do?

After her third lap around the table, she had gotten her answer. And it was one she most certainly found…curious.

Following about a foot or two behind her was the very same boy she was sure would leave. With every step she took and turn she made around the edges of the table, he followed. Without a word, without a noise, he simply followed her. After the sixth or seventh lap around the table, Lucy finally spoke.

"Lincoln, what are you doing?" she asked in her usual grim monotone. She didn't look back at him, but could tell he was wearing his normal big, stupid smile that people like him had all the time.

"By the looks of it, walking around in circles." He replied as a matter-of-factly.

Lucy didn't say a word: she just continued her path, passing by the trophy case again…and again…and again…and again with no variation. She really couldn't care less about the meaningless awards she passed, but her mind did start to think about something new.

"About how darn annoying Lincoln is!" she thought to herself. "Seriously! Why is he following me?"

Her thought-process was broke around the tenth trip around the table, broken by a low humming coming from behind her. What once was the sound of shuffle-foot-silence in the Loud dining room was now being replaced by her goof of a brother humming a tune she was completely unfamiliar with.

"Lincoln, why are you humming?" she asked.

"Oh, sorry Luce. I hum when I'm happy." he replied.

Lucy started to move her feet just a tiny bit quicker, her strides around the table becoming ever so slightly longer. In roughly a third of the time it took for the first trip around the table was now the new pace she was setting for herself and Lincoln. After another ten rotations, she spoke again, this time with a little more weight to her voice.

"Lincoln, why are you so…happy?!" she shot at him, a clear tone of agitation sinking through. Without even a moment of hesitation, she got her answer.

"Well, I'm hanging out with you." He smiled, keeping up with her pace. "And even if we're just walking around in circles, it's actually kind of relaxing."

Suddenly, Lucy stopped walking. Lincoln followed suit. She turned toward her follower and let out a big audible sigh.

"Why…why are you so…why are you so…" she sputtered, unable to find the correct words to ask her rather simple question. As if some sort of crazy magician, Lincoln seemed to know what she wanted to ask.

"Why am I so cheery?" he asked. After a nod from his usually stoic sister, he continued. "Well, what good would it do to be sad?"

Lucy thought about it for a moment. She could come up with over a million reasons as to why they should be sad.

"The world is meaningless, world hunger is killing thousands by the year, Ronnie Anne moved away, his favorite band broke up…why the heck is he so HAPPY?!"

"Lincoln, the world sucks." She said flatly.

"Sure does, Lucy. But at least we can make it just a little bit better."

For the first time in a long time, Lucy Loud had felt a smile creep upon her lips. As much as she hated to admit it…he was right. Lincoln Loud, the world's most bright-eyed do-gooder…had a point. What good would moping around about the sad state of the world do for her? How could she enjoy what little of a life she had if she spent every waking moment hating it? She could go out and do something for once! She could hang out with her friends, take a dip in Lake Erie, or even just write some gloomy poetry about her inner torment. Why not?

So what is the definition of nihilism?

That didn't change for Lucy Loud that day. Nihilism meant the same as it did the day before and the day after. The world may be meaningless, but if not for people like Lincoln, who would give it meaning?

Lucy looked upwards torwards her big brother and embraced him with a tight hug around his waist.

"Hey, Lincoln?"

"Yes, Luce?"

"…Thanks."