I run through the streets frantically. Where is that silly little dog go? I find him on the other side of the park, huddled under a bench. "Hey hunter, you okay buddy?" I ask him. I don't get a response. Slowly, I tie the bandana back around his neck. "Sorry that happened, I'm not going to hang out around him anymore. I don't need him scaring you. Or any of the other guys that hang out around me. I'm sorry." I earn a whimper.

-

I had back home through the muck. I totally wasn't scared of the tornado. It is not a real fear, it's just a 'I'm not in the mood to be destroyed' fear. So yeah, definitely not terrified.

He stared at the door, which was double locked. The last time something like this happened was seven years ago. He was fifteen. Wiped out his whole town and moved across the country. Somehow paid for the cabin and locked himself inside for a whole year.

Would he do that again, just to stay away from Kayla? Probably. She seemed shaken up when he had barely been able to call back the tornado. He punched the ground, covering his face with his hands.

I make it back home. I nod to Sarah and head straight for "my" room. I don't have my own room. But my roommate has enough brain cells to let me be. I sit down on my bed and stare at the wall. What if he hurts the pack of dogs Hunter lives with? Or any of the street cats? They always hang out around me because I understand them. And what if he hangs around me too? No, got to cut them off. For their safety. Not mine. My safety never matters. Only others'.

He sprawled on the floor, listening to the sound of the wind slamming against the cabin walls. Inside his head, the room was shrinking until it barely fit just him.

Caustrophobia. He'd had it ever since he was locked in the closet at his old house by his aunt after his parents died.

A huge crash sounds in the house. I stand up and run to find it. Pots and pans litter the ground. My roommate is in the middle.

"I thought I would try to cook dinner. You seemed mad." Sarah says.

"I am. I am very mad. I have to clean this up, and make dinner. Because we both know you do not belong in the kitchen. You can barely cook ramen." I say, anger boiling. "And I had to push away one of my only friends to he will not hurt the animals." I say. I shove Sarah out of the kitchen. "Go be useful until I am in a better mood." Wow, I am being a jerk.

He hugged his knees, replaying the scene. What had he done wrong? They had just been talking and then...

Something smacked against the window, and he winced when a bird fluttered lazily away. He called back the wind until it was pure silence.

He hated silence.

I throw toghter dinner as if I am battleing a hurricane. In a way, I am. I am still thinking about the tornado. The toughts move to weater, to rain, to driving in the rain, too... I pull down my sleeves even though they are already down. Because logiclly, the next thing to think about is car crashes. And no thanks. I put down two plates. I am running low on spagetti, so Sarah got the bigger portion. Not even, she got bigger.