When Lightning Strikes

When Lightning Strikes: Chapter 2

I was aware of the rays of the morning light creeping into my room and my eyes fluttered open to read the clock: 5:30 AM.

Well it was no surprise – I had gotten used to waking up at sunrise in Paris. I had forced myself to wake up every day just to be able to slip out the hotel room and take a walk around the charming city and capture snapshots for my scrapbook.

After a few seconds of reminiscing, I decided to go out for a morning jog, just because it would make me feel fresh and motivated for the rest of the day.

I pushed myself out of bed, grabbed a tank top and a pair of shorts from my closet and tip-toed to the small bathroom, being extra careful not to wake anyone. It took me less than five minutes to splash cold water on my face and brush my teeth, since I was excited to go out and experience the serene morning. I quickly slipped out of my pyjamas and got changed into my running clothes, and once I grabbed my iPod, I was out the door.

It was the perfect temperature for a jog – not sticky and humid or cold and bitter. How lovely a summer’s morning was, I thought, as I stretched a bit on the front lawn. Today was my first day back at college and I definitely did not want to start off on a bad note by having leg cramps. After my stretching exercises, I started down the street and swerved around the corner, heading in the direction of the park five minutes away. It was nice that a lot of cars weren’t driving about. I didn’t have to worry about being hit by one or the loud roars of motors.

It took me about an hour before I decided to run back home and when I did; I was met with relieved faces and a lot of scolding.

“Gracie, where have you been?!” Dad tried to sound stern and menacing, but I could sense the panic in him.

Aubrey, who was in her usual embroidered kimono, put a hand on dad’s shoulder. “Dad, calm down. Gracie’s here now and that’s all that matters,” she soothed.

He rolled his eyes in return. “So you’re saying if she’s just been attacked, it doesn’t matter because she’s here?”

I watched as Aubrey’s puzzled expression turned into a small frown. “Yes?”

“Wrong!” Everyone jumped, and as he turned to me, I gulped. “Where were you?!”

“I went for a jog!” I defended myself. “Is that so wrong?”

Dad sighed and rubbed his temple (which was a well-known anger or stress treatment for him), so mom spoke up from behind him. “You could have told us then. We all had quite a scare!”

I shrugged, feeling a bit rebellious as I did. Don’t ask me why, but I’ve always seen shrugs as  “I didn’t know everyone would get so worked up …”

“She’s right,” Aubrey agreed as she plopped down on the sofa beside me. I felt weak with relief that my sister was on my side. “Everyone’s getting too worked up over something so small.”

Mom looked at Aubrey with offence clearly showing on her jaw-dropped face. “I’m not worked up!”

At the same time, dad exclaimed, “You think Cece disappearing for a whole hour is small?!”

I didn’t like it when our close-knit family argued. My heart always tightened during the fight and sank when one of us would walk away to blow off some steam, so I decided to stop this before it turned into something bigger. Knowing my father and Aubrey, they would probably blow up and stubbornly refuse to acknowledge each other for the next few days.

“Dad, Aubrey, can you please stop?” I then turned to my father and took a step forward to hug him. Embracing people was a wonderful tactic to make others more relaxed. There was just something about a simple hug which could brighten up anyone’s day. “I promise I’ll leave a note next time I go out for a run? I’ll bring my phone too.”