Her name was Fallyn, but she didn't want anyone to know that.
She hid behind letters and hid from society.
And that was okay with her.

She clutched her textbooks against her chest and didn't spare a passing glance.
Her messily knotted shoelaces were her eyes' only interest.
And that was fine, too.

Her fingers fumbled to readjust her thick glasses while she stuck wooden pencils in her ponytail.
She silently chewed her fingernails and memorized multiplication tables.
And that was all right.

Until.

Until that moment when a menacing pair of hands reached out and squeezed her face.
Blood rushed to her brain, and a million things from freshman year biology flashed in and out of her head.

Fight or flight?

Her vision was dark.

She had fallen.

Her head felt like it was full of lead as she tried to raise it from the hard tile floor.

She squinted and groped for her glasses.

"What?" A voice shouted. She winced.

"What, you can't see?"

Her hands found only hard rubber soles, connected to a booming, garbled voice.

"You can't see, can you?" It shouted again. She wished it would stop.

And then the booms were replaced by claps of thunder, laughter. It sliced at her skin and vibrated her head. She squinted and clenched her teeth.

"She can't see!" The voice couldn't enunciate properly. Unfinished words kept falling off of a tongue and spilling into her ears.

The thunder strengthened, but then lightning started to accompany it.

And once the lightning started, the thunder quieted.

She heard her glasses clack against the tile and reached for them.

They were in front of her eyes again, and she saw the huge thundercloud crumpled on the ground.

A boy in a white shirt stood to her right, holding out his hand.

She winced at first, unaware and unused to being acknowledged.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"No problem," he replied quietly, "I'm Rodney. I hope you're okay."

"I'm alright," she said, looking away, "I'm used to it. Just another little storm."