Disclaimer: No...just, no.
18 Storm
There was something primal about thunderstorms that struck an odd chord in Danny. The sheer, uncontrolled power—the crack of thunder, the blinding brightness of lightning (plasma), the pounding rain that made everything misty and indistinct...made something deep within Danny respond.
She knew she could get the rain to obey her—she had done it before—but it had ended unpleasantly. Nature doesn't appreciate being tampered with, even if the being doing the tampering is unnatural in its very existence.
What she really wanted to bend to her will (although she would never admit the desire for control out loud) was the lightning (plasma). She wanted to feel it dance dangerously along her body, feel it flow through her, follow her directions. She wanted to hold the torrent of energy in her hand, to watch it blaze across the sky according to her commands.
She watched a particularly vicious fork of lightning streak across the dark, moody clouds and a shiver of delight briefly worked its way through her. The rain was coming down in sheets, flowing haphazardly down the windowpane she was looking out of.
All the lights were off, and Danny was alone in the house, her brother out visiting high school friends, her parents elsewhere (perhaps out shopping for new technology?), and all was eerily quiet save for the occasional growl of thunder. It was somehow...oddly appropriate.
A sense of potential grew inside Danny's gut and her grip on the pencil tightened, her eyes glued to the skies above. Where will it strike? She wondered, body tensing.
Abruptly, the lightning flew across the clouds, creating an intricate spiderweb of power that made the part of Danny that wasn't quite human howl in appreciation as the thunder reverberated around her, the sounds loud and terrifying, being so close.
Danny quickly caught herself, though, forcing the feral grin off her face, shaking herself bodily and mentally.
At least mom and dad aren't home, she thought with a slight tinge of shame. Ever since that time it'd been a little harder to pretend she wasn't nudged a tad closer to a ghostly disposition. Oh, she'd learned control, knew how to rein in the impulsiveness that was part of her ghostly nature, but...
Thunderstorms were just so raw, so elemental, so uncontrollable...
Something she secretly longed to be.
Danny could tell the storm was moving on and returned to her studies, the rain on the roof a strangely soothing sound as she focused on brute memorization of language vocabulary.