You were a child psychopath, much to her and the Monsignor's surprise. The state and the prison didn't want you, so they threw you into the asylum.

She always noticed how you caused chaos and how the others stared at you. They thought you were too young, but your background proved otherwise. There was nowhere else for you to go, and that was final. Everyone had accepted it, even if you were such a troublemaker.

Despite being a kid approaching double digits, you still faced punishment. Sure, she may have gone a bit easier on you after the guards dragged you into her office, but you were just a kid. She couldn't help but feel a little sorry for you, even though she put up a cold front. She didn't have the best relationship with kids, especially after what she did under the influence of her beloved alcohol. That's why she became who she is now.

Tonight was a particularly slow and stormy night. She was checking on everyone to ensure they were in their cells, ready for rest. Everyone was, including you. However, she heard muffled sobs and sniffs coming from your cell.

She had one of the guards open the door, then instructed him to leave. She would handle this little mess by herself.

"What's wrong, little rugrat?" She asked, her tone softer than usual. "Oh, don't tell me," she chuckled lightly, "you're afraid of the rain?" The storm was stronger than usual.

She wasn't surprised when all she received was silence in response. After all, she was the mean nun who had punished you. That's what you had told her, at least.

"Don't be a little brat, tell me. Hm? You've piqued my curiosity." She wouldn't leave you alone, not tonight.