Flak Tartrum and the Lightning Curse

In Which My Mom Sells Me Off

 
Turns out, when your book is named The Lightning Curse, you start to hate lightning. A lot of people do, it's bright and it makes heaps of noise. A big crack scares all of the pets onto the coach. They mess the place up, and you have to get over the lightning. Great, who likes lightning? Well, me, apparently.

  My name's Flak Tartrum, like the flak vest and tantrum, except that the n wasn't finished. I was once normal, just boring average life. You know the deal. Hang out at home, work part time jobs all day and mess around with flowers all day. By the way, I'm 15, and I'm a dropout. That should be enough for introductions right? Yeah, that's enough.

  It was a sunny day, which quickly turned stormy. Wonderful. I love storms. My mom and I were stuck inside our flower shop. She ran the place and I worked here part time occasionally. Though if you were to look back on my total job experience, flower shop employee would easily be most of my experience. What can I say? My mom works me hard.

"Flan, you think that storm's going to let up soon?"
  I frowned at the nickname, then at the storm. Yes, my mom calls me Flan, instead of Flak. Back when she was young, she'd always loved flan, eaten them every day apparently. So, naturally, she made that my nickname.

"Nah, I don't think so. Speaking of which, I need to grab groceries."
  I grabbed an umbrella out of the umbrella rack in front of the store. The umbrella rack had a box, filled with money. Really, the umbrellas were supposed to be free, but people kept walking over to the cashier to pay for them, so we made a box.

"Be safe out there! And be quick!"

  I ran out of the store, looking up through the transparent umbrella. Lightning strikes were fairly common in the city I lived in, every now and then you'd see a lightning strike hit someone. They were usually fine. Usually.

  The grocery store and our flower shop were on the same street. There was no problem just popping over and buying a few groceries. I could even make multiple trips without worrying about anybody stealing anything.

  I had nearly reached the grocery store until I looked up. Just a little check, you know. I saw the rain, pouring down onto the umbrella, almost hitting me, stopped by a flimsy piece of plastic. I kept looking, still thinking something might happen. The lightning quota hadn't been met today.

  The lightning quota was something I'd invented. Ever since I was 5, lightning bolts had decided to hit things everyday. Once a day at least, but never to me. Then, once I reached 10, it hit twice. The bolts now shot closer to me, maybe even to me. Now, I was 15. You can probably guess what happened next.

  I moved back as quick as I could. I couldn't let myself be fried after all. The lightning bolt struck the ground where I once was and the rumbling of thunder pierced my ears. The irritating noise made my clamp my hands over my ears. I looked up, having to see through the rain, since my umbrella was fried. A second one came.

  I tried to dodge, I really did. But when you had a long day of work and had barely dodge lightning, you were tuckered out. And so, I was hit and brought to the ground. My body began to convulse a little bit, but otherwise I was fine.

"Flan!" My mom shouted from inside the flower shop.
  She hastily grabbed an umbrella and her medkit and ran over to me, making sure I was okay. She applied all sorts of medicine, most of which I couldn't identify, and bandages on me. I was silent the whole time.

  I formed a slight smile, watching my mom fuss over me. She had the right, but it was kind of funny how overprotective she was. I was about to get up, when I saw the clouds. The clouds were especially heavy today and seemed to gather around our position. They rumbled, and even I could see what would happen.