Yes, the sun may have shone high in the cerulean sky, but the clouds in her mind blocked the bright rays. Warm air beat down on her back and burned her skin, but she was as frozen as ice.

Although kind phrases were often thrown upon her, she replied with words that struck like lightning, and the consequences were thunder. You could almost see the black clouds of mist that surrounded her, as they were ever so prominent.

The world may have been water, but she was nothing but stone.

But it wasn't her fault.

She never wanted to live within the twirling, tumbling winds she did, but nonetheless, that was where she was. Her white-picket house may have been on the end of the street filled with friendly neighbors, but her home was nature's most violent storm.

While most kids' childhoods were filled with dolls, special occasions, and family trips, hers was filled with bruises and neglect. She was the product of the aggressive wind and flooding rain that raised her to be the person she was.

When two storms meet together, they combine and make a storm twice as large, twice as deadly.

She was created to be nature's deadliest.