There was a massive thunderstorm, the first interesting thing to happen all year. He liked big storms, the bright flashes of lighting amidst the dark, maddened sky, the crashing thunder, and pouring rain screaming and crying atop of the world, disrupting the placid order of everyday life. It felt more fitting in his world than the sunshine.
He rolled out of bed just in time to slide through the doors of school right as the first bell rang. Hair unbrushed, snacking on a handful of cereal he stuffed in his pocket yesterday morning, he trudged to the back corner of the classroom, dropped his backpack on the floor, and tried to fall back to sleep as his class commenced. The teacher’s lecture would usually be a lullaby but for some reason today it was especially bothersome. He lifted his head up from his desk and pressed his palm up against his cheek, staring out the window at the trees dancing with the wind to the rhythm of the rain. When lightning struck it was as if the trees and wind stopped for a second to gawk at the light show in the sky, and with the crash of thunder, they’d start dancing again. How he wished to be among the rain, watching the recital from a front row seat.
Lightning struck again, flashing a startlingly bright light into his eyes. He quickly squeezed his eyes shut to the overwhelming light and he heard the thunder boom. He felt a cold draft creep up his arms and once he opened his eyes he saw the window glass had shattered with a gush of wind punching its way into the classroom. The wind was circling around him, gripping his torso and crawling under his legs, it pushed his body upwards as his feet were lifted off the ground. The wind carries him upright, his arms flail in the air trying to gain some sense of balance. Longing for stable ground, he tries to latch onto his desk but his fingertips just barely brush the smooth table top. The wind pulls him forward continuing to ascend into the air, he swings his arms around causing his whole body to follow. Now moving backward, he reaches for anything touching the ground, but only grasps more emptiness. He notices the door frame around him, and his arms dart out as his fingertips secure themselves around the edge of the frame. He could feel the inner wall and kept trying to slide his hands further inside the room, but the wind was yanking his legs the other direction. He floated horizontally through the door frame, his fingertips turned white as he desperately gripped the sturdy edges of the door frame, inching further out of the room until his grip was completely lost and his body jolted into the hall.
He yelled out in a panic, but when he looked around he noticed his teacher and classmates' statuesque state. He saw them clearly for only a moment, but they looked frozen. Their faces stuck in their expressions of intense focus or boredom, the teacher held her hand out towards the projector, midlecture, mouth open, frozen. Suddenly the environment that persistently churned a wicked cauldron of judgment and dejection was so still, and silent.
Perplexed, he barely noticed the wind circulating around his body was rolling under his arms and legs and continuing to lift him up. Nearing the ceiling, he frantically scanned the hall for help, recognizing figures in the distance he yelled, “Help! Help!” But the figures didn’t budge. With the ceiling right above him he quickly covered his head with his arms as the air shoved him through the drywall ceiling. Feeling the pieces crack and crumble as he emerges from the building, he moves his arms and only sees the gray, cloudy sky in front of him. Beginning to flail again, he moved his body to face down, staring directly at the hole he left the roof seeing pieces of drywall fall out of his hair and shatter upon meeting the ground. He slapped the air, “Stop! Let me go! Let me go!” But there was nothing to make contact with, his hands just split through the open air.
The rain poured down on him, the pressure of each drop becoming harder as he elevated higher into the sky until the wind carried him up through the clouds, where he finally stopped. He floated in the air, the rain no longer pelting him, the sky above him clear and blue, he could even feel the sun’s warmth. As he looked down he could see his school through the clouds, the foggy layer somewhat distorting the scene. Though staring down at the insidious cage he felt dictated him for the past four years, he realized how small the school really was. How bare and lifeless the surrounding area was, the school stood in the middle of the dry grass field as a pillar of vitality and business amongst the barren monotony of the small, old town. The cars passing the school were frozen in motion, the trees stuck mid-dance and the flag out front, in the midst of flapping. A chaotic contradiction to the quaint, quiet placidity of the town’s slow, tedious pace, like a thunderstorm to the regularly hot, sunny environment. He felt betrayed by that place, but looking at it from such a distance, it looked harmless, almost hopeful.
He reached out to touch the cloud, extending his arm in front of him, entranced by the frozen scene below him when the wind slapped him in the back, shocking him back down towards the school. He was falling face forward, barely being able to find the air in his lungs, he screamed out in a panic, the bright white roof covered in rippling puddles reflected the bright gray hue of the cloudy sky. He was falling right towards the hole he’d left in the roof, watching it getting larger as he quickly approached, he squeezed his eyes shut, put his hands in front of his face bracing for impact.
He stayed like that, it had to have been a few minutes when he still felt nothing. Peeking out through one eye he saw the classroom window, intact. He fully opened his eyes and looked forward, his teacher was up at the board, her squawking lecture flooding the room. Just then he almost jumped out of seat as he heard a loud booming crash of thunder.
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