Pathetic Fallacy

I woke up to a dark, shadowy room. No one is with me; I am alone. I hear thunder in the distance. No rain, no sign of lightning, just the thunder. My dog hides in the washroom, stressed about the noise she cannot source or control. It is distant and muffled. The storm approaches but has not arrived.

I stir. I prepare myself for the day, knowing it will come at me just like any other day, and the electricity flickers as the storm nears. In the distance dogs bark, experiencing the same stress my own pet experiences at this time.

It begins to drizzle. I watch the patch of rain fall moderately on the world, then pass on and leave us in its moistened wake. I try to let my dog outside but she refuses.

The sun rises further behind the thick, dark clouds. Birds attempt the sing but are dumbed by the thump of fat, dense droplets of water. The rain intensifies. It is loud, full of pressure, tenseness and fear. Water fills the sky in my window and I watch it with reverence.

The rain falls harder still. It falls with purpose and power, pummelling the roof with vigour and ever anger. The clouds darken. It is as if the sky is falling in around me and I can do nothing but watch hopelessly, helplessly from the confines of my room--my own little slice of reality.

Then lightning flashes with insane electricity. Its crazed light fills the whole skyline, flashing like strobe. I listen with attentive ears for the deep rumble of thunder that is certain to follow. It does, with long, mellow vibrations that shake me from within. it is moving. I want to shut my senses off and feel it move me no more, but I don't. I can't. It surrounds me in scientific ways I cannot describe.

I stare out the window at the rain. It still falls heavily. I can always close my curtain and sit back on my bed; I can pretend the rain isn't there, but I don't. I watch it, compelled by its persistence, and a feeling of something even bigger coming that I cannot shake. I watch, I wait, and somehow I know. It will come.

Finally it does. A great cracking thunder that seems to split the sky in two goes on and on. It cracks viciously like a whip, followed by a boom of such depth and force it intimidates. My dog is sent into hysterics. It is long and it is loud, so loud I want to lock myself in a room forever and always just to escape it, but I don't...I can't. I force myself to let the rain fall heavily before me and the thunder envelop me as I stare, exposed, feeling it rattle me from all angles and electrify my every nerve.

The thunder stops. It ends quietly, sorrowfully, and leaves me feeling empty and homeless. The rain continues as it was for a long time. Eventually it slows, stops, picks up drizzling now and then.

A distant rumble echoes its predecessors. Sometimes the lights dim. At times even a great, painful crash can be heard from the clouds far away. The rain trickles on in the aftermath of the storm. I stare out the window no longer. I am now left to my own devices in my slice of reality. I still hear the rain, I still feel the thunder, I know the storm is not entirely over. It never will be. Its effects can never be undone or ignored. The storm is a scar, a permanent, prominent memory. It is hard, harder than I can explain, to turn away from. But I must continue preparing for the day, because I know it will come at me just like every other day.