Shayde liked rain. Even more did she like storms. It was a love, even an addiction. When there was a faint rumble in the background, she would run outside and side cross—legged in the open field of her yard and wait patiently for the rain to come. That was what she was doing right now.             She sat on the wheat grass. It was tall, and it almost hid her scrawny body in its depths. Her face was blank, expressionless, but Shayde was thinking excitedly. She was good at hiding things. Only her nanny, Edith, who had practically raised her from a little baby, could ever understand what she thought. The sky was a dark, steely grey, almost black. A smile started to play on Shayde’s face, but she forced it away quickly. No smiles. She smiled once before a storm and it disappeared without a trace, and it was all sunny outside.             The wind was blowing hard, threatening to blow Shayde off of her seat in the grass, but she merely tightened her core and silently told the wind to hush down a bit. Only a bit. She liked hard winds. It did lessen a little, just enough for Shayde to sit comfortably. It blew her short, coal-black hair in front of her unusually pale—almost greenish face. Shayde was careful to keep her eyes hidden of all emotion. The storm might leave otherwise. She knew of her powers, and how emotion could distort the ability to call the storm to her.             “Come closer, come closer….” Shayde chanted in her mind. It was building now. The low, majestic roar of thunder boomed through the field and all the way to the mansion where she lived.             Shayde desperately wanted to rise. The shadow from the storm clouds cast a shadow brilliantly across the light wheat fields, and the single, huge oak tree in the distance swayed dangerously with the wild blow of the wind.. No, she must sit, it might ruin it otherwise.             Rain began to pound way off in front of Shayde, by the oak tree, then quickly danced its way across to her. Thunder boomed and roared as Shayde rose, the pouring rain dampening her dark clothes and pale, thin body. Now she could show emotion. Shayde laughed as the lightning cracked magnificently in the distance, and the thunder roared again.             “You cannot strike me, I am your commander!” Shayde called to the sky, her voice stronger and mightier than one could tell from looking at her,  laughing with glee. She caught a glimpse of her shocked looking mother beside Edith, who was pointing through the window, smiling vaguely. Her mother had never seen her do this before. Shayde lifted her hands high into the sky, still laughing triumphantly as she danced and leapt into the air.             Rain thundered down upon her, hitting her hard on the head. It felt tremendously good. Shayde stopped dancing, and instead she stood, her face expressionless once more, her arms hung loosely to her sides. Suddenly, she stuck her arms out to the side, and the showers of rain pushed aside like a curtain, creating an isle way for her to walk. Shayde’s arms remained to the side as she walked to the patio.             “You may leave,” she said without turning around, laying her hands to the side now that the patio cover was overhead. The thunder boomed out one last time as a reply, and even more suddenly than it had come, the storm left and sun took his place.