Air

6 0 0
                                    

(Trigger Warning!)

Skylar Ayrus:
Age: 17
Sex: X
Element: Air

The tail end of a hurricane was about to hit. Windows were barred; doors bolted shut. Everyone was inside their houses, safe and sound within the sturdy walls.
Everyone, except one.
Skylar Ayrus.
A single, solitary figure outside in the howling wind and torrential rain.

Their light blue hoodie did little to keep them warm or dry, water managing to seep through the relatively thick garment to the plain white tank top underneath. Similarly, the pair of soaked, grey, acid-washed jeans failed to keep out the cold. As did the white and blue striped trainers that trudged through puddles and mud.

However, unnoticed by the casual observer, a strange phenomenon occurred around the teen. Through the 30mph winds, a cone of stillness circulated around them. Even though rain pelted their shoulders relentlessly, their well-cropped, sky blue hair stayed remarkably still, even if it was matted to their forehead with precipitation and curling wildly. Likewise, their clothes were not blown around ceaselessly by the storm either.

There was reason to the perceived madness of Skylar's situation: why they stood out in the storm when no-one else dared. No matter how much the rain stung as it plummeted onto their dripping shoulders, it was much better than the alternative. It actually felt kind of... Good. Not in a weird way, but it almost gave a strange sense of catharsis.

Skylar sighed, reaching to touch the yellowing bruise on their left cheek.

"Time to go home..."

- - -

As soon Skylar reached the familiarly scuffed up and splintering, off-white door to their house, a lead-like weight dropped on their shoulders. They hurriedly dug into their pocket with numb, uncooperative fingers, hunting for their key. Once found, it slid clumsily into the lock, which unbolted with a sharp click once turned.

Skylar tried to sneak through to their room unnoticed, avoiding every loose floorboard down the hallway. It was a futile attempt however as they passed the entrance to the living room. A baritone voice boomed from inside the dimly lit room, which Skylar had secretly hoped had been empty, but had known better than to assume.

"You're back late. Get caught in the rain?"

Skylar swallowed the lump threatening to form in their throat. "Y-Yes, father."

"I was half expecting it not to hit us. After all, you know how inaccurate the weatherman is. It could have easily missed us completely." There was an eerie air of calculated menace as he spoke; the words were almost accusatory in nature. He didn't look to Skylar as he spoke, keeping his eyes fixed on the TV screen as he took a swig from the beer bottle in his hand. Skylar didn't miss the subtle change in their fathers demeanor as he clutched his bottle tighter, knuckles turning white.

"I-I don't... I didn't-" Skylar stuttered, fear creating a deep sinking feeling in their gut as they continued to stare at the silhouetted shape of a man on a sofa, lit only by the white light of a television screen. Bottles scattered and decorated the floor beneath his feet like the borders of an untouchable barrier around him.

"Didn't what? Didn't bother to protect us? Didn't mean to create this mess?" He screamed, clutching another bottle in his hand until his knuckles were white "It's you're fault! You made the hurricane, admit it! You freak!"

"It wasn't my fault!" Skylar sobbed, tears streaming down their face as heavily as the rain outside. "I didn't do it!"

The man stood up from his chair, seething rage burned within his gaze. "Don't you DARE interrupt me, freak! I am your FATHER, Show some RESPECT!" He hollered, taking long, fast strides over to where Skylar was now cowering against the wall opposite to the living room entrance.

"N-No, Father, please, I'm sorry, I-" Before they could finish, he had swung the end of his bottle into their face. It smashed on impact, causing Skylar to fly across the room, sliding to the end of the narrow hallway. They lay unconscious in a heap on the hardwood flooring, blood trickling from a small gash on their cheek. Their square framed glasses lay a couple feet away, after being knocked off their face and bouncing against the hallway wall.

Their father strolled over to the crumpled mess, kicking them in the gut for good measure before scoffing at their limp body and walking away, sitting nonchalantly back onto the sofa and continuing to watch the TV.
On the screen, video footage of the hurricane carried playing as reporters warned everyone to stay inside.

(Wow, what a chapter!
I'll try doing some more light hearted chapters as well, I swear, but the first few are gonna be...
Heavy, to say the least.
I'm sorry if you were upset or triggered by any of the content,
I apologize in advance for later on as well; I will put trigger warnings before any unsettling chapters.)

ElementalsWhere stories live. Discover now