Anger, my Weapon, and Sadness, my Downfall

"I trusted you!" I screamed at him. I know it will make no difference.

"I know," he wispers, looking sad.

Why? Why so sad? His deep brown eyes stare into my furrious green ones, and the sypmathy shown almost makes me like him again.

A tear drips down his cheek. The shrunken cheek I know so well, dead from hunger.

"If I hadn't done this, so many would have died," he tells me, and I almost beleive him. But I can't. I can't get tricked again.

He is evil. Windstorm, who I have always loved and cherised, evil.

"Please, Adana, please love me again!" Windstorm sounds hurt, devestated, and lonely.

I try to fight against him, as he reaches to controll my mind.

Before I know it, my clenched fists are burning with fire, and it spreads up my body taking my mind and heart to the place of rage- where almost no one returns from.

I feel the tears in my eyes, but they aren't wet enough to quench my flames.

Instead, the fire burns through my sadness, and turns it to a boiling steam, a steam charging towards Windstorm.

It lights him on fire, burning him into ash. I smile, feeling an odd sence of joy at the pain of the antagonist before me. I made him feel what my heart had, I made things even between us.

I saved others from being tricked, and heart-murdered the way I had!

I stare at the ashes, just dry, dead earth. No more Windstorm! Al that's left off him is the sparkling water off his tears.

I think the word only for a minute.

Geniune.

The tears are back. Once again, they fuel my fire, and the ash on the damp earth doubles.