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•DARK & STORMY NIGHTS•
Saturday, June 12th, 2010 . . . 9:21 P.M.
The storm was what woke Genevieve. It was the sudden crack of thunder, vibrating through the window panes, and the harsh pitter-patter of rain, slamming against the glass, that caused her to stir from her sleep.
Once she realized drifting back to sleep was no longer an option, her brows knit down in an attempt to wake her weak muscles. Every muscle holding her together felt tired, and she knew it was the lingering anesthesia that caused her to feel that way.
As she laid there, the seconds ticked by and her eyes remained shut, but her mind was on high alert as she tried to regain any lucid thoughts. Yet, all she could seem to focus on was the weather. Every crack of thunder and every harsh patter of rain. That's all she heard.
The commotion from the storm easily drew her attention away from any other thoughts. Still to this day, Seattle weather was an ongoing adjustment for the East coast native. She couldn't help but notice, the force of the thunder was so strong it felt as if it shook the ground—even though she knew, in reality, it hadn't. The assumption was all in her head. Yet still, she supposed, it was the way the vibrations felt as if they seeped through her chest, filling the space, that made it seem that way.
