I knew it was coming before it was even here. I could smell it in the air. The ground smelled moist and earthy, even the sidewalks and streets. The birds were silent, except for the ravens and crows, they sang their sad songs to fill the silence the other birds left behind when they took shelter. The wind was strong with and howling, flipping the leaves on every tree to show their back sides. Waving about as if to say “We’re so thirsty, please give us a drink!”

I sat on my porch, book and coffee mug in hand, snuggled under a blanket and a sweater on the porch swing watching the dark grey clouds roll in. The sound of booming filled my ears like a sweet song. The air seemed filled with electricity. The fog came first, thick and heavy. The feel of it moist on my skin. Then came the rumbling.

It sounded almost like a gigantic dogs growl rumbling in its throat, then the loud booms came like loud barks. I breathed a happy sigh inwardly and looked out at the darkened scenery before me, counting the rumbles and booms in seconds to see how far away it was. Only when it was overhead did the suspension that came with its before open suddenly into loud thick wet rain drops, hurling towards the ground with great speed, sounding like a thousand men running from some unknown thing as they drops hit the ground.

I grinned as I watched the rainfall, and giggled as thunder boomed. This was the weather I loved and craved. I snuggled into my blanket and put my book down to watch the beautifully eerie and melonchaly sight infront of me. It was much more beautiful a story than the words I read on a page.

“Boom”… there’s the sound of the storm… deeply singing its dark tunes… never letting go.

Moisture on the ground as I walk outside. I feel the sweat that is forming in the air. I touch the soil, it isn’t dry, but not wet. This is the time where fog starts to show. The smell makes me feel uneasy. I feel sweaty but a cool of breeze comes my direction. When I walk my feet in my shoes build up water. I reach out my hands, small pebbles of water fall. I feel the air slightly change as I walk, it’s hot and humid. I watch as the cars roll by, the window are covered in fog.

Today is a special summer day. As I headed to my friend's house for a birthday celebration, countless sweatdrops dripped down my neck like the water flowing down a window on a rainy day. The scorching temperature suffocates me and the blazing sun burns my skin, adding more intensity to the relentless heat. After some time, I notice that everyone begins to walk more franticly—a worker transporting loads of goods rushes to his destination. A strolling mom sprints into the house, like someone running away from a monster. Looking up, the dark clouds loom in the distance—streams of rain cascade from the heavy clouds, looking just like silk. I immediately realized the previous surrounding skyscrapers had blocked my view of the menacing clouds. I darted to the nearest eave with all my power. Right away, the thunderstorm hurled at me. I didn't know whether to be relieved or angry. The wind cooled me down like the ocean wind but the rain was about to soak my whole body. "Rumble!" The thunder shakes the whole city and the lightning blinds my eyes as I am taking shelter. Wallawallawalla! The heavy rain splashed from the edge of the roof like a waterfall. Behind, I heard rapid footsteps from inside the house. Unexpectedly, a little boy opened the door and handed me an umbrella. "Here's an umbrella to protect from getting wet," he said. "Oh, thank you so much, bro. You are so kind. I'm going to a party now and you came at the right time to help me," I replied filled with gratitude. "No problem, I'm glad that I helped you!" A few minutes passed by and the heavy rainclouds floated away at last. "If I see him without an umbrella in the future, I'll give him one as well," I thought.

The distant wailing of wind whisks the wintry bristles of my skin. The low, sardonic growl of thunder reverberates in the bony cage ‘round my heart. As I hastily ride on, the path is at length obscured by a thick cloud of russet dust. Like a whimpering creature soothed by her mother’s gentle song, the nebulous dirt road is settled by a gentle rain, and familiar Old Oaks and wooden fences come into view again.

Frustrated Depressed Nothing goes my way

Swirling thoughts anger won't melt clustered faces stay

Alone Fists raised come what may

A storm kept inside a battle in my mind that won't end unless I pay

There was an energy in the air, seeming to charge everything around us. Usually this only happened when a storm was on its way, at least that’s what the Elders had said. But they also mentioned something like “clouds”, which, by their description, were nowhere to be seen. The sun beat down, as it always does in this godforsaken place. One sunny day followed by another, for all of memory. I had been born after The Event, so I only know of things like “rain” or “snow” from stories of the Elders, and the occasional kid my age who wanted to act like they had some forbidden bit of knowledge that made them superior. Apparently, a lot had been different before. Most parents and grandparents would speak of having more than enough. And I mean that broadly, as it was more than enough of anything: food, water, shelter, community, things I had never even heard of and struggled to understand. Not only was there an odd sensation in the air, but everybody was also acting strangely. It was as if they could feel the same thing as me, but didn’t want to let on that they did. Men and women pushed past me on the dirt street, people whom I knew but wouldn’t stop for a simple greeting or even to make eye contact. This made me uneasy, the town never acted like this. I had surely felt this intangible force before, but I hadn’t started acting strangely afterward. Had I? I rushed home, seeing that the central road of our settlement was clearing out. It almost seemed like doors and shutters were being slammed closed as I passed by. Perhaps this queer feeling was taking its toll on my senses. It almost felt as though the energy built with each step I took, going from a slight hum to a crackling that I could swear I should be able to see. Just as I felt that my bones were buzzing with this phantom current, I reached the faded wooden door of my family’s hovel. Nearly falling through the entrance, I threw myself into the dining room to find my parent’s and last surviving uncle sitting in a semicircle facing the doorway. “Do you guys feel…?” I ask, but my mother interjects. “The Storm is coming, once again.” I give her a quizzical look but she does not continue. “It’s been nearly thirty years since the last,” my father adds grimly. “I had hoped to not live to see it again.” “What is this Storm?” I inquire, anxiety rising in my skinny chest. “Who will be taken this time?” my uncle says, obvious fear in his voice. “It cannot be me, everyone else of my line has been lost in one way or another.” Without warning, my father leaps to his feet. “Then your line ends today!” he screams with a ferocity I thought I would never see out of him. My uncle howls, just as an alien sound grows outside. It is as if some invisible force is flinging sand and grit against the facade of our home. “The Wind heralds Its arrival!” my mother says in a monotone, as if reciting something reverent. “You cannot do this!” my uncle shrieks, falling backward out of his chair as my father looms over him. I am frozen with fear and confusion as I watch this horrendous drama unfold. The noise outside becomes a howl not unlike the one my uncle had just uttered, but more hollow somehow. “It must be this way,” my father mutters. “For the good of our family.” “I am your family!” my uncle shouts, spittle flying from his lips as tears brim around his red-rimmed eyes. Just then, I hear a loud crash outside and am temporarily blinded by a light so intense I’m not sure I will ever see again. Deaf and blind, I squirm on the ground and do not realize it is my scream echoing in my ears when my vision returns. I wish it hadn’t, as I see my father laid upon my uncle, his fingers wrapped tightly around his brother’s throat. My uncle’s face is purple and appears swollen as he slaps helplessly at my father’s arms. He flails and his mouth opens and closes silently as his eyes bulge. Tears stream down his discolored face and his tongue seemed to be about to burst out of his mouth. Finally, I felt the weight of the situation. “No!” I scream, flinging my small body on my father. I may not be strong, but it was enough to loosen his grip. My uncle took a sharp inhale that sounded like glass being dragged across the floor. “Do not interfere!” my father roars, his face ugly with fury. I feel familiar hands wrap themselves around my midsection. “It has to be this way,” my mother says in a strained voice. I struggle against her grip but I know it’s futile. My uncle regains his feet but my father is back on the attack. They grapple and throw each other around as the noise outside grows to a deafening din. Just as the house seems to be shaking from whatever was happening outside, the two men crash into the wall. Another flash like before blinds me and when my sight returns this time, my father and uncle are gone, replaced with a hole in the wall. I try to run to them but my mother continues to restrain me. “It’s better this way,” she says in a tight voice. “Perhaps two offerings from one house will keep the Storm away longer.” I stare at the hole in the wall, feeling as hollow inside as it. My mother whispers in my ear that in time I will come to understand this and that’s when I realize that it is deathly silent outside. Finally I slip out of my mother’s grasp and approach the new opening, looking out on the changed world. Except nothing has changed. It all appears as it had, but there is no trace of my father or uncle.

I would later learn that at least one person from each dwelling in our small settlement had vanished in one way or another that day. Though my mother had promised I would someday understand, it has been thirty years since then and not a word has been spoken of what happened. My mother died a few months later from an illness that swept through the settlement and I gave up on ever learning my father and uncle’s fates. Ever since then, I have feared feeling that same sensation I had that fateful morning. It weighs upon me every day as I watch the infinite sky above us, wondering at what had happened that day.

The wind picked up, whipping the trees, blowing branches around haphazardly. Loud rumbles reverberated through my skull. Flashes of light captured my eyes, leaving me awestruck while cowering under my covers. I was curled in a ball, listening to the loud raindrops thunking against the roof and window panes. They were heavy and fat, leaving large splotches across the class. I watched as the water slowly dripped down, pretending that they were racing. It was the only thing I could do to keep calm when the constant booming kept echoing through my room. I squeeze my eyes shut as twigs and leaves thudded heavily onto the side of the house. The steady trickle of the water running through the gutter brought me out of my daze. I looked back to my window, just in time to see a jagged white light rip a seam to what seemed like another world, just for an instant. My eyes go wide as I continue to watch and listen.

Clouds roil over the horizon, sweeping in with alarming speed. Suddenly, I notice the darkness - all the daylight seemed to have fled the oncoming storm as well. The air is tense, charged; the whole world seems to be holding its breath, waiting for the storm to break over us.

Small droplets begin to tumble to the earth, teasing what was coming. Within minutes, the clouds had opened in earnest, the heavens pelting the hard ground with rain.

My clothes are water logged, my boots sucked into the now muddy ground beneath me. I run for cover, a lightning bolt striking the church steeple ahead of me, the great boom of thunder following quickly.

The soft tap, tap, taps of the trees against my house now slammed with full force on the wood over and over again. The leaves flew in the air, spinning and dancing as if possessed. Over the howl of the wind, I heard soft plops landing on my roof. The plops turned from calming to aggressive, drowning the house in a splurge of rain. I slammed the windows shut as a blast of icy air found its way in.

BOOM! The bang of lightening sent my cat flying into a nearby closet, cowering in the safety of its darkness.

“There, there, it’s ok,” I said, crouching down to meet my cat’s eyes, bright with fear within the darkness.

The window shutters rattled as leaves, wind and rain slammed into it again and again, the wind screaming and crying to be let in.

I cooed my cat into my arms, stroking her gently, whispering into her ear. “It’s ok, it’s just rain. It’s ok.” Another crack of thunder and the window lit up, illuminating the trees groaning and swinging outside, before returning back to darkness not a second later. My cat leaped from my arms and retreated back into the warmth of jackets and blankets in the closet.

“Oh, it’s just lightening. We’re safe in here,” I said to my cat, reaching in and running my hands over her soft fur. “It’s ok, it’s ok.”