She barreled into my life like a giant fire ball rolling down hill into a village made of straw that was my heart. Her skin, being the perfect shade of a foggy white that was just the right color to make her hazel eyes sparkle like a fancy, wooden, polished piano. She is topped with long flowing jet black hair and tied together with a foreign body, not yet tainted by the predators of my land. She was a foreign exchange student. I was not aware of her existence until the second semester and not smart enough to talk to her until there was only a month left before she departed back to her land. Within half of that month I fell for her knocking myself unconscious and consumed by her fire. Her fire was what kept my village warm, I need it. Now she is leaving and the ball of fire has finished going down the hill and is now burning down my village. This time next week she will be gone and the fire ball will have destroyed everything in my village leaving no chance to rebuild. So the villagers move to a cold dark place, never be touched by fire again, and I am left empty for she was never actually mine but, just something borrowed.