Struck by lightning in front of your house

Struck By Lightning

Countless thick raindrops are pouring down onto the boys covered in dirt and Mingi wonders if this is the end of the world. Wonders if the world could just end like this, on a stormy full moon night on the muddy ground of the backyard of his parent's house.

It is one of the heaviest storms he has ever experienced in his short life. The water that weeps into their faces is heavy and hurts but it doesn't hurt like life does.
His boy is lying right next to him, holding his hands tightly, for once not telling him that "it's okay" and "everything will be fine", tonight those sparkling puppy eyes are tired and broken, too.

A lightning bolt lights up the sky for a few seconds, framing the surrounding trees and houses in obscene halos. Mingi turns his head to look at his boy, counting in his head. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. And then a loud thunder rolls over them, startling him momentarily. That means, the storm is four kilometers away, Mingi thinks. His mom had taught him three seconds equal a kilometer, but his teacher had insisted on 5 seconds. He had never doubted that his mom knew best. Because children think their mom knows everything. Stupid, isn't it? So, who knows if it's true? Who knows if the distance of a thunderstorm could even be calculated by time accurately? He might never find out.

The next bolt is blinding him as Mingi catches his friend's eyes, stares right into the familiar hazel irises. His boy is looking back at him but it's obvious that his thoughts are somewhere else.
Thinking about how much the life hurts and how unfair it is to both of them, Mingi guesses. To get his attention, Mingi quietly asks the question that had been on his tongue all night: "What did you want to ask me earlier?"

The next thunder. 30. A bit over three kilometers. His friend's gaze on him clears, this look all too familiar to him. It's his Mingi-gaze. A look he wears on his face near Mingi when he thinks nobody is watching him. A look full of adoration and something Mingi doesn't dare to call love. Because they are too young to understand love, everyone says. It's a look that makes Mingi's heart jump, that makes him feel like the center of the universe. Like he matters.

"Why don't you wanna be alive?"

Mingi doesn't respond. Instead, he tilts his face back towards the sky, the back of his head sinking into the mud, almost like it's resting on a pillow. Another lightning. His boy squeezes his hand tightly when tears are starting to drop down from the corner of his eyes, mixing with the liters of rain that are still pouring down on them every second. Single tears that are unseen and irrelevant compared to the ridiculous amount of water on this planet.

24. Do I want to be alive? 27. Maybe. 29. BOOM. Maybe not.

"Three kilometers", Mingi whispers.

"Huh?"

"The storm is three kilometers away"

"Oh, did you-" the rest of his boy's sentence is swallowed by a gust of wind.

Mingi doesn't ask. His thoughts are too empty. Weird. Usually, he is always overstimulated. Always feeling everything and too much. At times he can't even wear socks because the rubber band makes him feel like he can't breathe. And he hates the feeling of water on his skin. Wet clothes are the worst. But not even that matters to him. He doesn't even register how his shirt clasps to his throat suffocatingly. Or how the mud on his free hand makes it impossible for his fingers to touch completely. Usually, he would freak out. But he is too zoned out. Too caught up in the intensity of being alive right now.

His usually never-ending train of thoughts has come to a halt. His obnoxiously loud inner voice muted as he thinks nothing, feels nothing but the hurtful raindrops and the howling of the wind and the hand in his own. The storm is getting stronger now, the rain too fast, too painful, he needs to close his eyes. Now the raindrops are pricking down on his eyelids, making him see weird shapes and pattern.

Another lighting. 28 seconds. Boom. More rain. More wind. Another one. 26 seconds. Boom. This time brighter, louder.

"Two kilometers", he whispers, looking back at his boy, vision blurry. From rain? From tears? He doesn't even know. His boy is watching him. Probably has been the entire time. With his Mingi-gaze, the only thing that makes it all worth it.

"The storm is almost here", Mingi says.

"Are you afraid?"

Of what? The storm or the life?

"No"

A lie. A lightning.

"Yes"

It doesn't matter what his boy meant because Mingi is afraid of everything. He is a scaredy cat. Weak and fragile and overwhelmed and scared and not able to survive on his own. That's why his boy is always with him, making sure Mingi can stumble through this far too big and chaotic world without causing major harm to himself of others.

"It's too much. All that happens, all the time", he doesn't even know if it's a response to his boy's previous question or just a statement. Boom. 24 seconds. Just about a kilometer. Nothing compared to the size of the world.

"But it's irrelevant. I'm irrelevant. Only you miss me. The other 8 billion people don't. You give me a little relevance. At least a bit."

The next lightning. His boy brings their conjoined hands up to his face, presses Mingi's back of his hand into his own soft cheeks as if to assure that he is really there. His boy's cheeks are cold and there is a film of water and mud between them. They aren't even really touching, Mingi thinks.

Boom. Three seconds. And almost immediately the next lightning. A bit less than three seconds.

"Are you afraid?", Mingi asks.

"Yes, for me, for us but mainly for you, Mingi"

His name on his boy's tongue, something rare. Because they don't talk much. His boy talks but Mingi doesn't. If everything is too much already, why make it more? Words are hard to form. His teachers and classmates don't understand why Mingi never talks. And when he does, they are startled by his deep voice. Only his boy understands. Or at least, he doesn't ask and does all the talking for both of them.

A lightning. And two seconds later, a thunder. Sometimes, Mingi wonders if his boy can read his mind. He knows Mingi's favorite Ice cream flavors. (It depends on the ice cream shop and the weather.) He knows which vegetables Mingi doesn't like and knows his favorite color. He knows that he likes to watch cats but is afraid to touch them. He knows all those things even though Mingi has never told him. He doesn't even know all those things about his boy. He knows some stuff. His favorite ice cream flavor is cookies and cream. And he likes potato chips. But other than that? Mingi's memory it too bad to remember those things, his brain too slow to even register details like this when so much is happening every second. He can't even remember his boy's birthday. But that's okay. He always reminds him in time. He also reminds him of his mom's birthday, even his own. Because his boy is the only one who doesn't judge.

Another lightning bolt, almost immediately followed by a thunder.

"The storm is right above us", his boy whispers.

"What if we get struck?"

His boy chuckles before he responds. The laugh is vibrating on Mingi's hand.

"Wouldn't that be funny? Hundreds of trees and buildings around us and the Lightning chooses to catch us. Two boys sunken in the mud"

A lightning. A thunder. So loud, Mingi winces.

"So irrelevant", Mingi whispers.

"Well, we'd for sure make the news. Be the topic of the town. The two kids that were lying down and struck by lightning in front of your house"

"But they'd eventually forget. In a few years, the kids might make a fairytale out of it but nothing more"

This time, Mingi is so blinded by the lightning, he sees white. The thunder that is following less than a second after is so loud, he feels like the ground vibrates with it. It sounds like an explosion right next to them. Mingi feels his boy's hand clasping his tightly as the thunder rolls over them, hurting their eardrums.

Mingi whispers the words he's never had to courage to speak out loud before:

"Thank you, Yunho"