Thunder

If I were a superhero

"Painted in flames. All peeling thunder. Be the lightening that strikes in me. The lightening that strikes relentlessly."

The storm looked alive tonight. The sky rumbled above me, growling and spitting heavy rain down onto my head. It chucked colours around the clouds and bared it's yellow teeth that made whole black clouds light up with fascinating bright light.

The rhythmic pitter, patter soon turned into a quick and thunderous hum as I ran across the deserted road onto a path. It was late at night. Midnight I think. I had no idea where I was running but I needed to figure a destination soon.

The storm grew angrier. I was never one to worry too much, but tonight I was scared. The clouds seemed to reach its lightening fingers towards me, stretching closer and closer to the ground. I felt my whole body buzz with the excitement and adrenaline that pumped through my veins.

I have always loved storms, I'm not quite sure why. Maybe 'cause there are just certain things that can only be leant in a storm. I had been trying to sleep when the nasty monster came rumbling over the small town of Batemans bay, Australia.

I always feel restless in a storm. The thunder that's what it is. It sounds like a heartbeat in a way.

Tonight the thunder was almost in sync with mine as i pumped myself harder down alleyways and across parks to my unknown finish line.

Left, right, left, right. I chanted to myself and my feet pounded on the pavement. Suddenly I felt my hairs stand on its end. Stopping, I leaned over and reached for a lamp post that shone an eery light over me, I winced and pulled back as I felt electricity shock my finger.

I brushed my hair down that had annoyingly stuck up all over the place on top of my head. The monster above me rumbled angrily. My whole body seemed lighter and I thought I could almost float away.

The pain became more intense. It tore at my chest and ripped my flesh, my vision was blinded and the noise was deafening. I smelt burning. I was pushed forcefully to the ground as I felt the pain as strong as one hundred daggers sinking into my stomach.

Groaning and screaming with anguish, I writhed about on the floor, clutching my body. My eyes were watery with the sheer pain and my breathing came out in sharp, shallow rasps. Sweat dripped down the side of my face and covered my forehead in a thin sheen.

"H-help," I croaked, my desperate tone made his words almost inaudible, I didn't even hear myself say it.

The pain subsided and I rolled over, the rain felt hot on my skin as the sky cries for me my sister's tears when she realizes I wouldn't be waking up tomorrow. Christmas.

And my last thoughts was how I would die with my eyes open.