Prologue

I thought I was the type of girl perfectly described as a beautiful garden on a hillside next to the sunset. The type where I bloom everyday with peace and elegance. But, boy am I wrong. The thought of me being fragile is so far from me being a bloody kickass. Little did I know, I'm a grenade on a warzone waiting to blow out, damaging properties. A katana that is not afraid of bloodshed and just be as horrid as possible. Following my mother's footsteps is the only thing that is hard to accept. It's hard reaching people's expectations. It's hard being a legacy.