The rain tumbled gently onto the black figures that gathered outside the chapel, entering slowly, stopping for a few seconds to pay respects to the colossal crucifix that stood towering on the left side of the chapel's entrance.
One figure however stopped in front of the crucifix but did not pay any respects. Instead she stood in the gradually increasing rain in her grim black outfit and glared.
The raindrops, now falling faster streaked down the sharp contours of her, young, beautiful dark-skinned face and weaved their way through her white, thick, straight hair, trying to soak her through.
She glared at the massive form in front of her, ignoring the pitying looks that were thrown at her by the entering guests, concentrating only on the form in front of her that stood mocking her maliciously, knowing she was powerless against it.
The colossal symbol stood as it had for centuries. The bloodied man, on the cross remained in the same position, his wrists and feet nailed to the bars. His head, crowned with thorns, remained looking away from her and onto the floor with his eyes closed, ignoring the plight of the world.
She had never really seen him or what he stood for as any form of hope. And now she found him to be an abomination. He'd let them take her father, her daddy, with his head turned away as he stood on the cross, turning a complete blind eye.
And yet she was here with her mother to pray to him to take her father into her care. It was an oxymoron in itself and it just served to fuel her fury inside.
It was always like that. He took everything and let everything be taken and destroyed, and yet, when everything failed and there seemed to way out they all ran and cluttered at his temple, begging him for the salvation he had so long ago promised.
"Orroro," a voice called behind her softly. She turned and saw the drawn and grief-stricken face of her mother.
She looked at her and sighed as she looked upon a woman, once a beacon of strength, now withering to nothing.
"We're about to start," her mother said before going inside, not looking at the crucifix.
Orroro followed her with her eyes before turning back to the form, her face and most her hair now wet, and clenched her jaw as her heart's furious whispers and screams of rage grew louder.
Sniffs and soft sobs could be heard throughout the chapel as the priest continued. Women dabbed their fake tears behind their veils while mothers tried to get their children to put on the same charade.
Orroro sat next to her mother, upright, unmoving, her eyes burning through altar, condemning it and all the lies. NO tears fell as she sat like a rock, her anger mounting as everyone of the priest's lies and the fake sorrowful sounds stabbed through her ears.
She clenched her right fist as the priest placed a hand on the coffin. A thunderclap sounded from outside.
Her other fist clenched as everyone stood to recite a prayer for her father. They didn't love him and yet they were all here. They didn't even care and yet they all sobbed and sniffed. The priest cared even less than the God he was praying to and yet he stood there, touching her daddy's coffin.
The wind began howling and rattled the chapel windows and doors violently as the rain began to beat down.
She didn't stand with the rest, instead she glared murderously at the coffin that was confining her father, the whispers and screams in her heart engulfing her in her own rage.
The storm outside swelled.
"Let us pray."
The doors blasted open and she rose, her eyes still fixed on the coffin. Howls and gushes of wind blasted through, spraying everyone with sharp rain.
"Everyone stay calm."
Her breathing became heavier as did the wind and the priest was blown of his feet by a huge gust of wind that blasted through, tearing up empty benches.
The earth began trembling, gradually growing stronger with each passing second until it brought down a pillar and part of the left side of the chapel.
People began screaming and fleeing in terror as the ground convulsed violently, bringing down the entire left side of the chapel.
The storm blew in from the now open space, enveloping her in a torrent of ferocious rain wind and thunder.
The lightening wrenched the sky apart, screaming out along with the thunder as the wind howled and roared.
She continued to stare at the coffin, her fury growing like lava in a mountain, reaching every cell in her body.
They sky groaned, cracked and thundered loudly as yet more and more lightening tore it open and series of electrical shrieks. They wind rushed forward and around her, creating a cyclone of her dark hair around her face, lifting her off the ground.
The entrance on the other side of the chapel tumbled from the quaking earth and came crashing down along with the right side of the chapel while the wind crashed benches and stray rock together.
As the storm grew with her fury and pain, each blast of wind filled her and as the rain smashed down on her skin while the thunder and lightening surrounded her, her rage was fuelled and was soon turned into a burning fire that blazed through her eyes, engulfing the dark feeling of painful weakness.
Nothing could stop her now. Everything would pay for what they did to her.
The tress outside bent to her will as her wrath and the storm entwined.
Glass smashed, branches tore, rocks crumbled and poles toppled; her furious carnage devouring everything in it's path as her vengeful ferocity amplified through the elements.
Fire began spreading through the torn down chapel, engulfing everything in her rage.
The thunder growled and roared as the lightening screamed louder, urging the howling wind as it swept her around to face the other side, blasting her hair backwards in a swirling mass behind her head.
Her blazing eyes found the crucifix, the abomination.
Her arms rose slowly as she glowered at the cross.
The storm grew even stronger.
The colossal form began creaking, but didn't move.
Her arms rose higher.
The wind, thunder and lightening cracked and howled till nothing else could be heard.
The cross swayed forward and backwards.
She spread out her fingers and her arms rose still.
It swayed backwards and forwards violently as the wind and thunder began groaning and shrieking at uncontrollable strengths.
Her arms rose till they were stretched above her head, her fingers still outstretched.
The fire reached the cross's base and began tearing at it's wooden vertical bar.
Her arms lowered slightly and then in one swift second, her fingers clenched brutally into fists.
The cross creaked louder and swayed forwards.
Her fingers clenched harder.
Slowly the huge form swayed backwards and then tumbled down, smashing onto the floor, the man's face buried into the fire.
Her eyes flared with a triumphant flame as the blasted at her.
The fire rose and the thunder and lightening screamed and roared through the sky, ripping it apart.
She was the storm and the storm was her.
