If you were to see her, without actually talking to her, you would think of her as just any other child. Well, perhaps not a child, being so tall, yet not a grown up.
Her hair is long, but always tied up.
Sometimes even in plats.
She's a plain girl, not particularly attractive. Nothing much to look at.
Her clothes mimic that of a tom boy teenager. Combat trousers, a baggy T-shirt, no Jewelry. Except for the necklace she wears around her neck.
Gold chain, with a star of David pendant.
Like I said earlier, If you see her, you'd think she is just like any other child. Young, innocent, sweet talking.
Its amazing how quickly that image of her can shatter.
She has a rough way of speaking, perhaps you could call it unrefined, perhaps you could call it rude. Her face rarely shows emotion. Generally she just gives a stare, as if she's constantly unimpressed by the world around her.
A smart woman, even if her actions don't reflect that.
A woman of many talents you could say.
She speaks several languages, plays several instruments, passed many degrees.
Has knowledge of many weapons.
Isn't popular with her neighbors. Not so at all.
Her relationship with them isn't like my relationship with my neighbors. Not in the slightest. I tend to complain about how I have the worst neighbors, the most obnoxiousness, arrogant, insane, weird, people living around me.
Yet at least my neighbors don't Hate me.
Or at least not to the same extent as hers.
I hope.
It didn't matter to her that she was hated. She hated them back. Perhaps with an even greater level of hate.
Honestly, I can't remember a single world meeting where she hasn't been a major talking point, because she's done something or other to piss someone off
She likes starting fights, and likes winning even more.
She's stubborn,
she's brave,
she's intimidating.
She was scared.
She had woken up to the sound of a blash. A loud crash, followed by ringing in her ears.
That was all she could hear.
C sharp.
She jumped out of her bed and ran to her window. As she pulled open her curtains, she gazed at the the thick black smoke traving past her veiw.
That was all she could see.
A gas of Carbon and Sulfur.
She ran over to her mattress and pulled out the large hand gun which lay under it. She never went anywhere without a weapon. Slowly she opened her door to her hallway, gazing cautiously down it. She made quick movements towards her stairs, proceeding down them with cation.
Nothing appeared to be wrong so she made her way to her front door, placing a shaking hand on her lock to turn it.
It was quickly drawn back as the metal transferred it's heat to her skin. She took a step back to see black smoke seeping in through the cracks in her door.
"Fuck," she called out.
She ran into her kitchen to view what lay outside. Her front garden was on fire, her beautiful flowers and trees were set ablaze. There was noting she could do now to stop it.
She ran into her living room to lay claim to her home phone praying she could still use it. Grabbing it with one hand, still holding her gun in the other, she ran in her nightgown to the back door. Despite still being in bare feet, she managed to kick it open in one go.
She quickly assessed the situation she was in. He house didn't appear to be on fire itself. No one appeard to have broken in. Her garden was empty and she saw that she wasn't in any particular immediate threat. She swatted down to the floor and crawled to one of her garden walls.
Just in case there was someone or something in this garden she didn't want to encounter she stayed low.
She could still use her home phone from her garden, so she decided to make the call. Despite the ringing in her ears making it impossible for her to hear anything.
Instead of calling the fire brigade, she called her friend. Her eldest friend, a friend she knew she could always rely on.
"I need help," she called out to whoever had picked up.
"My house, outside..." she paused, not quite knowing how to finish,
"It's on fire. Everything is on fire. Come quick. Bring help."
She then realized that sounding pitiful like this would make her a target so she added a "Now! That's an order" with a stern tone.
She held the phone up to her ear, hoping to hear the mans voice, yet all she could hear was the same annoying tone inside her head. Getting angry she threw the phone out across her garden. It seem to have smashed as it fell.
"Fuck!" She exclaimed, realizing that she had thrown with too much strength.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." She repeated looking around her garden once more for danger. There was nothing. There was no one. It was dark and she was alone.
"Fuck," she said once more, this time not with an angry tone but with one of upset. She lent her back on the wall, bringing her knees to her chest, holding tightly her gun. She crossed her arms above her knees, resting her head on them.
She sat there for a while.
When her hearing finally returned to her,
she could hear the sound of herself crying.