Zena's Suitcase

Thunder

This is my first attempt at joining in with Sara’s #ThePrompt.  This week I was feeling brave and here’s my take on ‘Thunder’.  I’d love to know what you think?

She looked out of the window, the noise of the heavy rain filling the emptiness in her room. It was dark outside, but it was full of energy as the tension of the storm grew.  It stopped her thinking about the loneliness, for a little while.  She could see a few lights on in the other houses and she wondered what life was like there.  Was it happy?  Was it predictable?  ‘It had to be better than here’, she thought.

She opened the window and the cold damp air came flooding in.  She held her hand out as if she had never felt rain before.  The cold allowed her to feel.  Feel human. Feel  in control, for a few moments at least.

She took one of the cigarette’s from her hiding place, along with the well used box of matches that were more than battered now.  She hung her head out of the window, but getting a flame proved a challenge.  She wasn’t sure this was going to be worth it, but she was determined.

She got her fag lit.  It’s not that she enjoyed it, but she was ‘hard’ you see.  This is what ‘hard’ kids did.  Kids with armour.  Kids burying the emotions they couldn’t make head nor tale of.  It made her cool, fit in, but the crowd was all wrong these days.

She coughed as she blew away the smoke from the John Player Special.  Apparently these made your lungs bleed, but she didn’t care.  Why should she care, no one else did.  They were downstairs, watching some rubbish on the TV, she was alone. He’d turned the power off upstairs.  It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last, by a long shot.  He had to have control, you see, over everything.

He’d found her watching the same program as they were downstairs, and that wasn’t allowed.  She wasn’t allowed to turn the TV on while they were out.  He’d feel the TV to check if it was warm, to check up on her.  Heaven forbid, she changed the channel while he was out of the room, even if it was for an hour.  She desperately kept hold of the thought that this wasn’t right, this wasn’t how life should be.  Looking out the window helped, reminding herself things were different out there.

She was so lost in her thoughts and listening to the rain, she’d not heard him come up the stairs.  She’d forgotten to concentrate, keeping her wits about her was a tiring task and didn’t come naturally to her.  She’d changed, she’d had to but she was still a square peg.  There was no point in being the good girl any more.  It made no difference to what was coming.

The rain started to fall much heavier, like someone had turned the volume up. She didn’t stand a chance.  The thunder rumbled.  It was loud.  It was close.  She was distracted.  She didn’t make to the end of her fag before it went BANG! The lightening clapped and the door flew open….


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