Rayne hated waking up early. She thought that waking up that early should actually be illegal. Unfortunately, waking up before the sun was a job requirement. One of many requirements that she hated. Early shifts always put Rayne in a bad mood, but today was particularly irritating because Rayne's boyfriend had dumped her the night before.

They had been at Rayne's favorite restaurant. He had been quiet all night but she figured that it was just because he was tired. Unlike Rayne, her boyfriend, John, was not working. He was going to school for business. He already had an internship and was "going places," whatever that meant. Rayne was not someone who was "going places." Rayne doubted that she would ever leave her shitty grocery job, let alone Arizona. She hadn't thought much of the quiet.

"I don't think that this is working," John suddenly interrupted her thoughts.

"What? This place? I told you we could go somewhere else," she said.

"No. Our relationship. I just...look Rayne, we're just going different directions in our lives. I'm going to San Francisco for that internship and you--" He suddenly stopped short. Aware of the dangerous direction in which his statement was heading.

"And you what? Where am I heading? At least have the balls to say it," she snapped. "I'm going nowhere, right? I'm going to stay here and even if I went with you I wouldn't be anything but dead weight." She could see the closest tables looking in their direction, sensing the drama. She saw that John saw them too.

"Please don't make a scene. I'm not judging you. We're just...different. I thought we could handle this like adults." Rayne thought about throwing a drink at him but decided against it. She took a deep breath and a sip of water before speaking again.

"I get it. Enjoy San Francisco. I hope you don't mind getting the tab. I can find my own way home." She left him blinking at the table and swiftly walked out of the restaurant. She knew she didn't have much time so she went straight for his car. He loved the damn thing an absurd amount and always parked it in the back to avoid any other cars possibly hitting it. It was annoying when Rayne wore heels, but it was extremely useful now. She walked to the dark space and pulled out her pocket knife. She knew it was a cliche, but so was a guy being obsessed with his car. Rayne decided that this would be her last cliche as she shoved her knife into the side of his tire. It offered more resistance than she expected and she had to be careful pulling it out so as not to cut herself. She repeated the act to his three other tires and started the long trek home. It took her a good two hours to walk back to her shitty apartment.

So Rayne was not having a good day. Her walk to work was pretty quiet. It was a Monday morning, so there weren't even any party stragglers to harass her. She was glad. She liked the quiet and hoped that it would last a little longer. Instead of putting in her headphones like she usually did on this walk, she just listened to the quiet and watched her shadow stretch out long in front of her, the streetlights behind her sometimes flickering. She listened to her feet hit the concrete at a steady pace. She listened to the occasional car swish by. It calmed her a little and she was feeling a lot better as she walked into her store.

As soon as the sliding glass doors hissed shut behind her though, she wished that she had just stayed home. Her manager was waiting and he looked pissed.

"Hurry up, you're the only associate that we've got today," he snapped. Rayne sighed and walked towards the back, wondering where everyone was. They were always understaffed but usually they had at least two people on the floor. She put her stuff down in the breakroom and glanced up at the T.V. She read the banner across the bottom: "BREAKING NEWS: New flesh-eating bacteria discovered in Florida." It was always Florida. She wondered why people even bothered to live there anymore.

The day was pretty uneventful. While physically taxing, her job gave Rayne a lot of time to think. She wondered about how a flesh eating bacteria might work and how it might be cured. She wondered why everyone and their mother was suddenly deciding to shoot up their workplaces, their schools, their churches. She wondered why the world was so fucked up. She also made sure to greet every customer with a smile and a kind, "How can I help you?" She was good at her job. By lunch time, she was physically exhausted and emotionally drained. She walked into the breakroom and tried to make a quick exit.

"Well, if it isn't my ray of sunshine! Rayne, come sit over here!" Steve called to her. Rayne hated Steve. He constantly hit on her, harassed her, pestered and berated her. More than that though, he was her boss's boss and he didn't take rejection well. Before today, she always had the fact that she had a boyfriend. She intended to hold on to that excuse for as long as possible but she was pretty sure that word would eventually get out and then she would be completely fucked.

"Hi Steve," she said, forcing the same fake smile she used with her customers. "How are you?" Rayne went over and sat next to the giant man and regretted every choice leading up to this moment.

"I'm good. Glad you're still around. We got quite a few associates out I hear. It probably has more to do with partying than illness. The only reason you aren't with 'em is because you got a ball and chain holding you back." As he spoke, Rayne felt his eyes moving up and down her body. Gross, she thought, shifting uncomfortably. The ball and chain cliche made his existence that much worse. He was a big guy. Maybe six foot four and stocky. He might have been attractive once, but years at a job like this one wears away at a man's good qualities until he is nothing but his most base self. Steve's most base self just happened to be a perverted asshole.

"Well, I'm getting paid and they are not," Rayne said as lightly as she could. He breathed heavily and looked at his phone.

"Check this out sunshine. I saw this video this morning," he said, pulling up something on his phone, clearly too far away for Rayne to see. She tried staying where she was anyway.

"Get closer. I promise I don't bite until after the first date." Rayne grit her teeth and pulled her chair close to him. She focused on the video and tried to ignore his breath on the back of her head. It looked like it was cell phone footage. It was relatively grainy, but the person taking the video was focusing the phone out of a car window. It was dark outside and hard to see. Rayne moved her face a little closer to the screen. As she did, something suddenly struck the car window hard and fast, obliterating the image. She jumped hard, bumping into Steve.

"What the hell was that?" she snapped, too freaked out to hold back as she usually did.

"Train hit the car. They were messing around, trying to get over the tracks before the train came. They misjudged it. Stupid ass kids. Got what they deserved. None of 'em made it." The way he said it was so nonchalant that it made Rayne sick. She just watched a bunch of kids die. He had showed her that over a lunch break like it was a guinea pig eating a mini-burrito. She needed to get out of there but was unsure how to.

"Look at this one," he said. "This shit is wild. This asshole was high on who the fuck knows what. The cops show up and he starts acting fucking nuts and then look." He practically shoved the phone in Rayne's face as the police shot at least ten rounds into a guy who refused to go down. She continued to watch as the man fell to the ground but continued to twitch. That was all she could handle. She pushed the phone away and stood up fast enough to knock her chair to the ground.

"Oh, come on baby," Steve cooed. "Don't act like that. It's just a joke."

"It's not a fucking joke, you prick. Those are people. Real fucking people who had real fucking lives and real fucking families. It's not a fucking joke. You--you are a disgusting asshole who needs to see other people feeling as miserable as you do. But you never will because you are a disgusting piece of shit." Rayne saw the rage on his face, but she also saw that he was never going to respond because every word she said was true and he knew it. More than that, he knew that she knew it. She also knew that she was very fired. "And one last thing--I'm not your sunshine. I'm not your baby. I'm not your honey. My name is Rayne. And I am a fucking storm."