(This is based off of one of my WIPs. Basically, this but more put together. Hope you have a great day!)

_When I was little, I used to lay outside and reach my hands up to the sky above, convinced I could touch the great moving clouds if I just extended my arms a little further._

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“LOOK, MAMA, LOOK!!!” I screamed in joy as I reached up to the night sky.

_The clouds danced and disappeared as colors burst into the air and made complex designs. _**The Fourth of July. **

“I see,” my mama giggled as she stared.

“It’s so beautiful…” I spoke in awe.

——

_When I was tween, I used to look outside to the sky above, convinced I could touch the great moving clouds if I just extended my arms. _

“Dad?” I questioned as I left my room and looked out the windows.

“Yes, honey?” he replied.

_How was I supposed to tell him? The mental picture I took swirled in my mind._

_The hospital bills were high. There was no way to help, I’d be an orphan by at least 12 and I knew it._

“Nothing. Just saying I love you,” I couldn’t say it. _I couldn’t tell him his attempts to protect me after mama’s death had never worked and I think he knew deep down._

_——_

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_When I was teen, I used to look up to the sky above, convinced I could touch the great moving clouds if I just extended my arms a little. _

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“So, what do you plan to do with me after the mission?” I asked _him _as I let out a puff of smoke and looked to the stars for even just a hint of hope.

“I don’t know. Maybe, I’ll keep you. You have less morals than the others,” _he_ said.

“Well, maybe that’s what happens when someone loses so much as a child and they don’t have anything left to lose,” I spoke.

_Why did it have to be this way?_

__

“Oh, kid…” _he_ spoke sympathetically.

_I don’t need his empty sympathy. He’s only using my for his dirty plans._

——

_When I was 18, I used to look to the sky above, convinced I could touch the great moving clouds if I just extended my arms a little. _

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“Why did you make me do this?” I questioned as I looked up to the sky, feeling the blood of others on my hands.

“You were easy to convince,” he laughed sickly.

“You turned me on my own country. You turned me in to a weapon!” I punched him. He fell back.

_Why? Why was I so willing to go along with his plan? Why did I turn on people I love? Why? Am I a monster?_

_“_BITCH!” He swung at me, but he was the same one who taught me to block that exact move.

——

_When I was 18, almost 19, I used to look up to the sky above, convinced I could touch the great moving clouds if I just extended my arms a little. _

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“How can you look me? I’m a monster,” I cried into my love’s arms.

“You didn’t want to turn like that. You were a traumatized child who was manipulated into bad. You’re not a monster. Oliver is.” Scarlet held me tight. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I looked at her eyes because her eyes were my entire world, even the sky.

_I am finally safe in her arms. Mama and Dad would be happy to know I found someone like her. _