“Breathe in, breathe out. Come on Lilith, you can do it. Don’t let them get to you. It’s fine, it’s fine, you’re just fine,” I thought to myself, clutching the meditation rocks my mother always prompted me to carry around.
Snapping out of my little trance, I looked up at my tormentors. They snickered and sneered at my calming mechanisms, and it drove me insane.

“Why don’t you just go worship at the temple, Buddha girl?” one of them, Fallon, said.
The other two laughed at the ignorant remark. Buddha girl? Really?
“You really shouldn’t get me angry, it will not end well,” I muttered, trying to keep away the Hurricane.

“It’s not like you’re gonna do anything. You’re a weak, little monk princess,” said the meanest of the pack.
Bella, Fallon, and Anastasia laughed again, and it seemed to echo in my skull. They were always coming after me with a new insult. I try every day to stay calm, to not get angry, to keep the Hurricane away from my humble little high school. But every single day, these three girls make it that much more difficult. Maybe the Hurricane can come out to play for a little while today.

“So is that it? Are you all talk and no show? Go on, hit me,” Anastasia said, shoving me violently into the lockers. The back of my head slammed against the locker, and pain shot through my spine. I groaned in agony. Verbal assault is one thing, but physical? She crossed a line. I swallowed and tightened my fingers around the stones so hard I swear I heard a crack. The sound of thunder rolled in my head and my vision turned purple, like lightning in a thunderstorm. My skin turned so hot I could burst into flames. The Hurricane is coming. My three tormentors looked terrified. I smiled, my anger heightening at their fear. I lowered my gaze, staring straight into Anastasia’s eyes.

“Didn’t your parents teach you to stay away from the eye of the hurricane?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Just as I lifted my hand to strike, the three girls ran off and left me under the cold glare of Principal Williams. The thunder stopped, my vision was restored to its normal state, and the heat of my skin turned icy. I hung my head, knowing very well that I was going to receive the short end of the stick.

Principal Williams, not saying anything, guided me to his office. On my way there, I made a mental list of who had wronged the Hurricane. Bella, Fallon, Anastasia. It replayed in my mind, a slow rumbling chant that resembled the thunder that boomed in my skull just a few minutes earlier; Bella, Fallon, Anastasia. Bella, Fallon, Anastasia. Suddenly, a sharp, burning sensation pricked my right wrist. I looked down, Bella, Fallon, and Anastasia’s names were etched into my skin. The lettering was the blinding purple of lightning and the names seemed to glow underneath the sleeve of my sweater. I stuffed my hands in my jeans pockets in an attempt to hide the impromptu tattoo.
Principal Williams opened the door to his office and motioned for me to sit on a chair across from his desk. I did as told and waited for him to speak.

“Miss Vatore, I am very disappointed in your actions today. Violence is never the proper way to deal with bullies,” he began, rearranging some papers on his desk. “I know it may seem like they will never stop, but if you don’t pay them any mind, they will eventually leave you alone. Got it?”

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