The Roof Where We Met

The Rainbow After the Storm

10 years ago

- Age 8
January 30

The lightning flashes in different colours, some yellow and white. The thunder booms overhead straight afterwards. I hear it from a distance.

I lie in my bed, hesitantly staring at my windows every now and then. The window is closed. The curtains wide open, letting me see what's going on outside.

I'm too scared to pull them in. Scared that I might get hit by lightning.

The past few weeks have been storms. All over Sydney. Most of them are coming to Highlands almost every night. Making it really hard to get to sleep.

It's still school holidays, so I get to sleep in. But sleep isn't really on my mind.

Just a few weeks ago, a middle aged man was struck by lightning, making, not just me, but everyone town concerned about their safety. Hence, my lack of courage to close stupid curtains.

It's sad that even at my age, I'm still scared of storms and the sounds they make. I should have outgrown that years ago...

Due to the recent change in weather, I've been going on my roof less and less. Even at my age I'm not stupid to know you shouldn't be in high places at times like this.

The boy I met, though, a couple of days ago, almost weeks ago, he still goes there. Putting his hands up as if he want lightning to hit him.

I see him watch the lightning overhead, silently counting under his breath, patiently waiting for the thunder to come after it.

Now I wish I had the guts to do that.

I hear scratching on the window and immediately pull the covers up to shield out the frightening noises. I try telling myself in my head that it's only the tree banging against the window glass. But even I can't convince myself, and think of the worst.

I start crying, thinking that I'm going to die and never see anyone again.

I want to go sleep with my parents, but I know they'll be mad. It's not my first time.

I lift my head from under the covers when the howling of the wind dies down and the rain stops. Feeling alone, I stand up and look over next door.

The boy, in his blue pjs, the one who's always on the roof in bad weather, stares back at me. He waves and goes back to what he was doing. Which was playing with his toys.

I'm guessing the storm-lover doesn't care about sleep. He doesn't look scared. He looks, delighted, almost.

He looks back at the window and motions me to come join him in his room.

I've never snuck out of my room past bedtime. Even if I did try, I wouldn't do it in this kind of weather. Where I could end up like that middle aged man on the news.

But for some odd reason I find the courage to open the window. It's funny what adrenaline makes you do in weird situations. 

If I went now before the storm starts coming down in full force, maybe I wouldn't get hit...

Maybe it was because I wanted to show the boy that I could be brave like him in dangerous situations. Or maybe it was because I needed a friend at time a time where it seemed relevant. Either way, I hopped on my window and climbed the the tall tree that seperated my house from the boy's house. Once I reached the house, I closed the window behind me, in case it rained once again. The tree, long enough for me to reach and long enough to reach the boy's windowsill.

He opened the window for me just as it started to rain heavily again. The howling winds returning to their noisey ways. I jumped down and looked at the boy in front of me.