My fountain pen rolled across the yellowing note paper as I wrote. Poetry was my art, my therapy, my expression of feelings.The wind tussled my hair and I tucked my scarf tighter around my neck, the soft wool tickling my skin. Grey clouds cast over, keeping the sun locked behind thick fog.
First came one large droplet, landing on my pale face. Then another, and soon the garden was being showered by thousands of meteorological tears. I closed my journal, quickly shuffling the loose pages inside and tucking it into my coat pocket.
I looked up. The sky was turning dark, the clouds heavy and threatening. I was unsure how someone could find this thunderous phenomenon frightening, it was one of the most marvellous displays nature had to offer.
The rain became heavier, soaking my hair and face as I watched the clouds roll by like breathtaking mountains of ever-moving storm. Lightning cracked like a whip through the gloom, and I began counting in my head, '1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10'. Thunder boomed on the tenth second. Three kilometres, the storm was close.
I watched the approaching storm in serene awe, my eyes unblinking despite the downpour. I felt cold tendrils slither down my torso, slipping beneath my coat. Goosebumps prickled on my covered arms, the icy temperature of freshly precipitated water eliciting the bumps on my skin.
Lightning flashed again, the bolt larger and more visible this time. '1, 2, 3-'
"Lorie!" A voice shouting through the weather yanked my focus from my counting. My shoulders slumped a little; how would I know how far the storm was now?
Thunder roared, the sound seemingly shaking the ground and bellowing into my eardrums. I jumped to my feet in shock. The storm was directly above the house, there was no need for counting.
I froze, but not out of fear, out of the longing to stay here with the storm. To witness it above me in its raw beauty.
Something grabbed my arm and I swung around, eyes wide.
"Folklore! What the hell are you doing! Come with me, now," Evermore demanded, her voice raised to battle the tireless rain.
I looked up at the clouds one last time before reluctantly letting my sister yank me indoors. She slammed the glass door behind us shut and pulled off her deep green cloak.
Gentle hands rested on my shoulders from behind before the person stepped in front of me.
"What were you doing outside in such weather, dear?" Poets asked, concern written all over her perfect face.
I shrugged and pulled my (thankfully) dry journal from my pocket.
"Writing? Honestly dear, you should have come indoors at the first drop of rain," my partner scolded me half heartedly. Poets gently pulled my soaked coat off my shoulders and hung it over the clothes rack in front of the fireplace.
"Take those shoes off, you're going to tread mud on the carpet," my sister scowled at my sodden boots that I slowly began to unlace with shaky hands.
Once my boots were off and out on the porch, I felt Poets' touch on me again. This time, her hands on mine. "Come, dear. We must get you out of those clothes before you catch a chill."
I nodded and allowed her to lead me upstairs, shivering slightly as water from my hair trickled down my already drenched body.
Once in Poets' room, she closed the door and began to tug off my white blouse, which was now almost entirely see through and showing my bra. Poets helped me into dry clothes and tussled a towel through my hair until it was free of moisture and had a fluffy, curly texture. She braided it down my back and kissed my rosy cheek.
"What are we going to do with you, hey?" Poets sighed lovingly and hugged me softly.
I looked down, feeling a little ashamed of my actions. Why couldn't I have just come inside the second it started raining? A normal person would do that, especially when the first boom of thunder echoed. Especially when the first flash of lightning sliced through the cloud cover. Why hadn't I? Why was I so unusual?
A slender finger lifted my finger. "Come now, no need to think of yourself like that."
I blinked in shock, how did she-
Poets smiled. "I know you all too well, dear. Don't be surprised."
I sighed quietly and nodded, allowing the taller woman to embrace me. I rested my chin on her shoulder, nuzzling into her neck.
Rain continued to pour outside, accompanied by the occasional lightning strike and thunder clap. I itched to go back outside, open the window, absorb the storm. But I knew I couldn't. Either A) Evermore would scream at me, or B) I would get scolded. Both of which had already happened, neither of which were particularly enjoyable.
Someone down the hallway was crying, presumably due to the last ground shaking thunder. It confused me more. What was scary about this majestic, natural sound and light show?
Maybe I was the problem, not them. Maybe I was so mentally disabled that I couldn't see what was frightening. It sounded right, I was usually the odd one out, and I was always unsure why. However, mental disability seemed to be the most likely explanation. At least I wouldn't be the odd one out in that category, majority of members of this household were a little mentally interesting.
I lifted my head from Poets shoulder and looked out the window, blinking through teary eyes. The rain had slowed and the thunderstorm had unfortunately ceased, leaving the quiet pitter patter of the descending water to create the noise outside.
"Would you like to sit and read? Get cozy in bed?" Poets asked, pulling out of our embrace and placing a hand on my cheek.
I nodded silently and she smiled. "Okay dear, you sit down and I'll fetch you something to eat." Poets kissed my forehead and exited the room.
I sat down on her bed and buried my face in my hands. I couldn't help but feel completely undeserving of her love, Poets was truly angelic, and somehow, I got to call her mine.
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