STORM'S CALM
Tap. Tap. Tap. The rhythmic sound of branches tapping on the window was completely ignored by the small room's only occupant. Said occupant sat on his bed in the latest "safe house" in only his boxers with his legs drew up to his chest and arms around his legs. The small swell outside matched his mood perfectly. The sky was dark as night even though it was high afternoon. Rain that had started out has a small shower, now poured like a waterfall. The slight breeze had turned into wall rattling gusts. And it was getting fiercer still.
Where as the storm was showing its pain and sorrow to everyone, the distort youth on the bed keep his sorrow to himself. He was too deep in his own dark thoughts to notice anything going on outside. All he could see or hear were all the things that had ever gone wrong for him, and that was just about everything that he had ever seen or done. The faces of everyone he had ever loved drifted through his thoughts. He gave a sad laugh. The scene was very short. He learned early not to love, for those he loved left him. He wanted it all to stop the war, the deaths, everything.
Dull eyes looked out the window finally seeing the storm raging outside. When he did so, the storm began to focus on his window. The sky got darker, the wind picked up, the rain fell more heavily, and the branches started to knock with more force. It was as though the storm was trying to sway the occupant to come outside.
The figure stood up and walked to the window. The wind changed direction immediately. Instead of blowing towards the house now it blow away from it the rain and braches also following suite. His hand reached out and opened the window. The wind blew through his long braid undoing it like tiny fingers. The youth could feel the rain and wind caress his body as though a lover would.
It was like he was in a trance. He found his feet carrying him to the front door and his hand on the knob before he knew what was happening. The door flew open with just a small turn of his hand. As soon as the door was open, he could feel the drawl of the storm intensify. He could feel the wind trying to suck him outside. He could see the trees extend their branches to him like arms of comfort. He could feel the rain wash away his dark thoughts has it ran down his barely clothed body. Again his body reacted without thought, for he found that he was walking out into the calm of the storm.
With every step away from the house, he felt better. The storm was his calm. He did not feel. He did not see. He did not remember. The storm was taking his rage and pain and making it its own. It picked up its intensity even more with each step he took. Within only minutes of being outside, he was soaked to the bone and freezing from the wind and rain, but he felt none of this. His only focus was the call of the storm.
He fell to his knees at about 100 feet from the house and about 50 from the edge of the thicker trees. He needed to get up. He needed to make it to the trees. He needed to leave this pain behind. He tried to tell his body to get up and walk the rest of the way, but unlike before his body did not move an inch. The storm quieted down some as if to make his way easier, but that did not help the figure move one way or the other.
He finally had enough strength to stand up again facing the edge of the trees. He tried to decide what to do, which way to go. He felt the pull of the storm and wanted to go with it, but something was holding him back. His strength was rapidly fading him by the second. He started to hear the buzzing of the storm intensify to an almost painful level. His vision was started to fade in and out. He could see spots starting to dance in his eyes. He had to move, but which way?
The storm seemed to know that if he lost consciousness before he reached the woods that it would lose him. The wind started to blow stronger at his back forcing him to take an involuntary steep toward the edge of the trees or else fall to the ground. He started to feel uneasy now. The storm was taking a mind of its own now. Or had it had one all along? Now, it was forcing him to walk into itself.
He felt his last remaining strength leave him. His vision became grey and quickly became darker as he felt his body start to fall to the ground. He could do nothing. He was helpless to stop it. He thought that he heard someone behind him call his name, but could not be sure and did not have the will to turn and look. Just before he hit the hard earth floor, he felt two strong arms catch him and lift him up and press him against a warm, hard body. 'Who would be insane enough to come out in this kind of weather?' was his last thought before he succumbed to the darkness calling for him.
The storm watched as another figure scooped up what it wanted. It let loose its anger. It tried to stop him from taking away what was its, but it just could not stop the other boy from stealing its prize. The storm tried harder with more vicious attacks. It started to pull bark and small branches from the trees to throw at the figure to stop him.
Another youth with wild brown hair pulled his burden closer to his chest in order to shield him from the debris and make sure he did not drop him with the increase in the wind speed. He looked up at the house. He knew it was about 50 feet away but he could barely see it because of the fury of the storm. He almost lost his balance and fell to the ground but caught him self in time. He knew he would not be able to make it all the way back to the safe house without help. He looked down at the pale boy he held in his arms and his resolve was settled. He called out to the three other occupants he knew where waiting at the door.
"I have him but I can not make it back with him alone!" he shouted at them. He did not hear a response but could see two figures start towards him and the one he held protectively. Soon the others reached him. With one on each side of him, they made there way back to the house where the fifth was waiting at the door.
They finally made it back to the house but not before the storm got in a few kicks from the high winds and flying debris. The figure that was waiting by the door closed it with help from one of the other boys. As soon as the door slammed shut, the full power of the storm's fury was released upon the small house and it five occupants. They took its prey and it wanted him back and now. It would not be denied what it wanted.
Tap. Tap. Tap. The rhythmic sound of branches tapping on the window was completely ignored by the small room's only occupant. Said occupant sat on his bed in the latest "safe house" in only his boxers with his legs drew up to his chest and arms around his legs. The small swell outside matched his mood perfectly. The sky was dark as night even though it was high afternoon. Rain that had started out has a small shower, now poured like a waterfall. The slight breeze had turned into wall rattling gusts. And it was getting fiercer still.
Where as the storm was showing its pain and sorrow to everyone, the distort youth on the bed keep his sorrow to himself. He was too deep in his own dark thoughts to notice anything going on outside. All he could see or hear were all the things that had ever gone wrong for him, and that was just about everything that he had ever seen or done. The faces of everyone he had ever loved drifted through his thoughts. He gave a sad laugh. The scene was very short. He learned early not to love, for those he loved left him. He wanted it all to stop the war, the deaths, everything.
Dull eyes looked out the window finally seeing the storm raging outside. When he did so, the storm began to focus on his window. The sky got darker, the wind picked up, the rain fell more heavily, and the branches started to knock with more force. It was as though the storm was trying to sway the occupant to come outside.
The figure stood up and walked to the window. The wind changed direction immediately. Instead of blowing towards the house now it blow away from it the rain and braches also following suite. His hand reached out and opened the window. The wind blew through his long braid undoing it like tiny fingers. The youth could feel the rain and wind caress his body as though a lover would.
It was like he was in a trance. He found his feet carrying him to the front door and his hand on the knob before he knew what was happening. The door flew open with just a small turn of his hand. As soon as the door was open, he could feel the drawl of the storm intensify. He could feel the wind trying to suck him outside. He could see the trees extend their branches to him like arms of comfort. He could feel the rain wash away his dark thoughts has it ran down his barely clothed body. Again his body reacted without thought, for he found that he was walking out into the calm of the storm.
With every step away from the house, he felt better. The storm was his calm. He did not feel. He did not see. He did not remember. The storm was taking his rage and pain and making it its own. It picked up its intensity even more with each step he took. Within only minutes of being outside, he was soaked to the bone and freezing from the wind and rain, but he felt none of this. His only focus was the call of the storm.
He fell to his knees at about 100 feet from the house and about 50 from the edge of the thicker trees. He needed to get up. He needed to make it to the trees. He needed to leave this pain behind. He tried to tell his body to get up and walk the rest of the way, but unlike before his body did not move an inch. The storm quieted down some as if to make his way easier, but that did not help the figure move one way or the other.
He finally had enough strength to stand up again facing the edge of the trees. He tried to decide what to do, which way to go. He felt the pull of the storm and wanted to go with it, but something was holding him back. His strength was rapidly fading him by the second. He started to hear the buzzing of the storm intensify to an almost painful level. His vision was started to fade in and out. He could see spots starting to dance in his eyes. He had to move, but which way?
The storm seemed to know that if he lost consciousness before he reached the woods that it would lose him. The wind started to blow stronger at his back forcing him to take an involuntary steep toward the edge of the trees or else fall to the ground. He started to feel uneasy now. The storm was taking a mind of its own now. Or had it had one all along? Now, it was forcing him to walk into itself.
He felt his last remaining strength leave him. His vision became grey and quickly became darker as he felt his body start to fall to the ground. He could do nothing. He was helpless to stop it. He thought that he heard someone behind him call his name, but could not be sure and did not have the will to turn and look. Just before he hit the hard earth floor, he felt two strong arms catch him and lift him up and press him against a warm, hard body. 'Who would be insane enough to come out in this kind of weather?' was his last thought before he succumbed to the darkness calling for him.
The storm watched as another figure scooped up what it wanted. It let loose its anger. It tried to stop him from taking away what was its, but it just could not stop the other boy from stealing its prize. The storm tried harder with more vicious attacks. It started to pull bark and small branches from the trees to throw at the figure to stop him.
Another youth with wild brown hair pulled his burden closer to his chest in order to shield him from the debris and make sure he did not drop him with the increase in the wind speed. He looked up at the house. He knew it was about 50 feet away but he could barely see it because of the fury of the storm. He almost lost his balance and fell to the ground but caught him self in time. He knew he would not be able to make it all the way back to the safe house without help. He looked down at the pale boy he held in his arms and his resolve was settled. He called out to the three other occupants he knew where waiting at the door.
"I have him but I can not make it back with him alone!" he shouted at them. He did not hear a response but could see two figures start towards him and the one he held protectively. Soon the others reached him. With one on each side of him, they made there way back to the house where the fifth was waiting at the door.
They finally made it back to the house but not before the storm got in a few kicks from the high winds and flying debris. The figure that was waiting by the door closed it with help from one of the other boys. As soon as the door slammed shut, the full power of the storm's fury was released upon the small house and it five occupants. They took its prey and it wanted him back and now. It would not be denied what it wanted.