She curled up, and leaned against the huge oak. Silently, she held back the tears that threatened to fall. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t.
“Why must everyone misunderstand me?” she whispered. She brushed her bright red hair away from her face. Her lovely sunset colored dress, now darkened with dirt. She closed her bright golden eyes, preventing the tears from spilling.
She was fire. Her name was Fire, and she was it’s master. She controlled and used fire for what she wished. She was one of the Sisters. There were four Sister. Fire, Water, Earth, and Wind. They created and managed the world.
If only people understood that. Why? Why do people see me as evil? Fire thought. She represented light and warmth…not death, destruction, and evil.
The tears she had been holding back started streaming down her face. Everyone, even her sisters, thought she was Satan. And there wasn’t anything she could do about it.