I grew up wishing that people's darkness lived outside of them. I wanted to see behind the smiles and blank faces, because who wouldn't? Who wouldn't want to know how rotten a person's insides could be? It's like spoiled fruit. If you could see the insides, you don't have to bite to know if it's gone bad.

Even then, sweet things—people—can be dangerous.

Ma used to fret over my health. I was quiet, and a little skinny for my age, so Ma went out of her way to make sure her little girl was all right. Did I eat my broccoli? Did I make new friends at school? Was there anything troubling me?

I loved her, although she could be bothersome at times, but I suppose it came from raising me as a single mother. She only had me. And I only had her. I think she recognized that and taught me the value of love. "Love everyone you meet, dear," she used to tell me, "because love is a precious thing." I knew she was referring to her parents that died in a plane crash, and the father I had never met (despite her not ever saying so). So I believed her.

But when the bullying started, and I came home angry that the girls at school who had been so nice would fire insults at me like it was nothing, Ma thought it wasn't their fault. "Dear, think about why they said that. They're hurting just as much as you are," she would say, hugging me. "Be nice to them. Eventually, they will too."

It happened during the regular side show. Some poor freshman was pushed against the lockers by a towering senior—Mike. A crowd has gathered to watch, so I had to peek over tall people's heads. The spectacle gave us a momentary high from the dreary school routine, even if it was brief as it was insignificant.

But there it was. The miracle. A lone storm cloud, hovering over Mike. It shrank, and grew, shrank and grew, like a pulsing heart. There was a cloud over the boy too, but it was small and pouring rain that turned into the nerd's tears. It was nothing like I've seen before. Transfixed, I watched as Mike's insults fueled his thundercloud and tore the nerd's esteem into shreds.

I couldn't see his cloud for the rest of the day.

I decided to investigate this deeper. Between walks on rainy days and studying my classmates' social media posts, I gleaned new information—not only about what the clouds meant but the people around me. White clouds were happy, rainy clouds were sad, and almost everyone weren't feeling what they seemed to be.

Now I saw what Ma meant: in class, grey clouds hung over the group of girls like wilting

flowers. When they got the chance to snitch on others, however, the clouds swelled like balloons on ecstasy.

I am their sun, I thought. They didn't want to believe it, perhaps they didn't realize it, but their lives revolved around my suffering. Around me. That gave me a brief moment of elation, but it was pushed back with a darker realization.

I was the sun, but they were the black holes.

This only became more apparent as years passed and I honed my gift, all while maturing into a young woman. Sad clouds helped no one. They were only the start of a vicious, unforgiving chain-like reaction. Sorrow, anger and darkness were the same thing in this respect: They were infectious, and I had to find a way to protect myself.

Sometimes it was far from simple. Like Ma, for instance. I don't know what drove me to stay with her day after day after day at the hospital. Her grey, almost non-existent cloud would lighten up when she saw me, like the sun had appeared behind it. She would hold my face in her wrinkled hands and whisper, "My darling," and I would kiss her forehead before leaving for the night. The visits sapped all that I had, but I kept coming back, if only to see Ma a little happier than she was before.

After her passing, something inside me disappeared. My fascination in others' sadness, my drug, vanished. It left me floating, untethered to the world. I started to disconnect myself from others. Avoid relationships. Hope that the four walls of my apartment would keep me safe from...from whatever was out there. The people? The unknown? Perhaps they were the same thing. The more I used my ability, the more I understood that this was the harsh reality. This was the only way to save myself. And nobody could see it until it was too late.

Now, as I sit by my bedroom window, I watch city life unfold in the morning haze. Despite the sunny day the weather has predicted, there's more rainy clouds than ever hanging over people's heads. Birds sing to each other, their chirps somewhat muffled by the thick glass. I'm happy, I think to myself. Happy as could be.

I smile at my translucent reflection. It's a shame I can't see my own cloud.

I have fun with ordinary people and special powers. Especially those that tie to emotions. -Jade