She wanted to be a writer. She had ever since she’d been a child. It was the only thing, really, that she could imagine herself being, despite bein... discouraged by her mother, my sister.“What kind of writing?”“Observations, I guess. About life. About people. About… beauty.”“I’d love to read some of what you’re written sometime.”“Yeah?”“Yeah.”She turned towards me, looking thoughtful, her soft smile becoming brilliant, clearly pleased, a look of delight in her eyes.“Okay. Lunch first,. . seriously Stephanie... that bitch is fucking nuts. She was yelling at me that I was going to hell. Demons are walking the streets she says. Satan is here to bring me down..."The teenager prattled on to her uncaring friend about all of the injustices of her life. No one experiences the kind of pain she's going through. No one could possibly understand her. She talked on into her cell phone and it continued to rain.Kat looked upwards as the night brightened. Fire dripped to the ground, sizzling. More

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