Zeus' Wrath
by Autumn Win-dow
(Words: 728)
You could vividly remember a time when you were not what you are now—you were merely a small, bespectacled boy with the usual naivety a child would normally possess, the usual interest in things now irrelevant to you now, and the usual ability to fear.
Fear. It was a word almost foreign to you now that you had aged—almost five times as older—and you had seen all that was truly evil in this world.
You had seen the evil of life, the bliss of death, and a fusion of both. You had witnessed building high fires and murder, after constant battles of psychological warfare between the darkest minds around you. And worst of all, you had seen the pain of the children—only twelve years old, yet already battling for the lives of others and the twisted Academy, including their own.
Boys and girls died. People lost their power and their memories. And everyone lad lost their innocence of the world—but that was something which you knew to expect.
Alice Academy was the destroyer of childhoods, and you would never forgive it for taking away your own.
Perhaps it would have been better if your memories were erased upon your admittance into Alice Academy—that way, you wouldn't have to remember what you had lost, what you still had, and what you never had in the first place.
But it was a naïve wish—a wish which should have belonged to the you of forty years ago, but you couldn't help but still have.
You could remember the feeling of the wood above you, serving as a shelter as you rolled yourself up in a ball on the carpet—with your blanket over your head and your fists clenched tight. The thunderous strikes of sound vibrated off the walls and ceiling, and into your ears.
Mother Nature was furious—or so you thought back then.
The sky shivered and screamed through the window of your dark room, as a sharp beam of light shredded the atmosphere every few 'one-one-thousands'. Every rip would send the interior of your room into a momentary freeze—the walls would become illuminated with a white glow, but it was nowhere near a glow which welcomed you into a world where peace lived without coexisting with insanity and evil.
It was a glow which welcomed wrath itself, as the flashes of light appeared in the corner of your eyes—clamped shut—and all you could see was red before it would vanish, granting you a momentary silence before it returned as powerful as it came.
You remembered the tears coming out of your eyes as the storm raged on relentlessly, without any mercy. You could recall how you shivered from the coldness seeping through the gap underneath the door, and the absence of your parents in the room.
They were never there, but why did you feel so broken?
You hated thunderstorms. You as a child felt like they pierced your safe bubble of solitude, replacing your comfort for true horror and despair. The resonating roars of the thunder made your limbs freeze from under the low coffee table which you could barely slide underneath, and the constant yet blinding flashes of lightning left you blind—blind of the first ever reality you had to face, and lso your worst.
It wasn't the world outside which bewildered you the most, nor was it the existence of Alice Academy itself. It wasn't the early death of one of your most annoying co-workers which left your scarred and robbed you of your childhood, nor the late death of said teacher's young lover which sent the same Academy into the brink of collapse. Even the death of your frog wasn't your worst experience, nor was it the destruction of the school which you had truly called home.
The worst reality which you had to face at a young age was the reason for the constant thunderstorms near your apartment building.
Two men in black had arrived at your door, ready to take you away from the place which you called 'home'—not that you would miss it.
They took you in as they told you that the reason for the thunder and lightning was yourself.
You were the cause of your own fears.