Darkness was all around her. In her palms, in her veins, under her skin and in her brain. There was a raging storm that always kept a close watch on when she was angry or when she was sad, when she was feeling remorseful or glad. Everyday it was something new. Everyday she came unglued.
Her mind was a time bomb, ticking, ticking, ticking, until the very last second when she finally gained control or had the anger forced out of her with a fist to the jaw, leaving her unconscious until the morning sun bathed her in the richest of warmth and washed all of the rage away from the smoldering light in her eyes.
There was always something bad to distinguish, always something good to corrupt. There wasn’t much good in her, or at least, that’s what everybody saw. She was quiet, like she always had something to think about, something to consider, something to imagine--but no one knew what beautiful things ran in her mind when she was alone and calm. All they could see was the monster with powers so strong it could kill before you even knew you were dead. Some souls still wander, thinking they’re alive when they’ve been destructed by her magic.
But throughout all the darkness her blood was made of, despite her bones being soaked in anger and resentment, there was one thing that mended her broken heart and washed away the bitterness..
As strange as it sounds, her little miracle was in a tiny TV with fictional characters left and right, but she found a peace in it, a wisdom.
Her miracle is called Naruto….and that’s where her story began.