The Storm
“It’s raining, it’s pouring…” That’s how the nursery rhyme goes right? It’s raining, it’s pouring. The old man is snoring, and then there’s me. Sitting in my room, listening to the droning sound of heavy raindrops on the yard and shingles of my house. The droning sound that subdues the sounds of the monsters outside. The monsters inside, inside the my house and inside my head. Darkness camouflages them, leaving them invisible to the night sky. The only glimpse of their presence, is when the lightning strikes brilliantly in the rainy night sky, leaving their silhouettes plastered against my walls and the glass panes of the house for a split second before disappearing again into the pitch darkness of night. They always move places, leaving room for more to fill the space. I can’t tell if it’s worse to be able to hear their snarls and growls or not at all and be left to fate to see where they show. The rain begins to thin out and the snarls of my demons start to rise from behind the droning sounds of the rain. A bright flash of lightning reveals dozens within the small confines of my bedroom, followed by a massive CRASH of thunder many seconds later. The lightning starts striking rampantly as the rain dies out, lighting up my room. The demons are leaving from the shadows into a more physical state, their snarls and growls of hatred and chaos echo inside my house. With every flash, they draw closer to me, circling my bed. There have been signs all around town saying, “Pray for rain” due to the harsh drought. Who the hell prayed for this?
