Lightning

-1-

The crackling and booming of thunder may make some feel frightened or small as they sit huddled in close next to their loved ones, but for me? It feels like the skies are calling for me to come home. The repetitive white rapid flashes might be the ideal scene in a horror movie for most but they feel apart of me. I feel as though the swift flashes of lightning remind me every time it strikes, of what true beauty looks like.

Then the heavy rain that pelts the tin roof of the warehouse I'm currently occupying, rendering a soothing lullaby, finally makes me wholly relax. I do not think of the men chasing me, I do not think of my mother and father, nor do I think of Aunty Amanda, not even the uncomfortable rocks digging into my lower back. Every muscle is no longer stiff and tense or alert, and my brain is no longer thinking one hundred thoughts per minute. I am completely at ease, despite my circumstances.

The shabby metal beams and tin above me make a temporary shelter in the abandoned warehouse I'm in, but just barely. With every gust of wind and boom of thunder the abandoned warehouse shook, scaring me slightly that it might collapse on top of me.

I shift the makeshift pillow -my backpack- into a different position under my head and clutch the blanket I stole from someones clothesline closer to my small body. The advantage of being short, my limbs are easily covered by my blanket to protect me against the cold and practically any clothes fit me, all the ones I'm weary are pretty baggy and loose.

Sighing, I move onto my side and tuck my hand under my head to cushion it from some hard object in my bag. I tuck a strand of hair that was tickling my nose behind my ear, feeling the dirt that covered my face in the process and cringe.

The last time I saw my reflection I was in a public toilet, I just finished having a shower when I looked at myself in the mirror. Bruises from my hardship littered my body and muscles have grown due to living on the run. At the time my thick wavy brown hair stretched just above my ribs, I didn't have enough time to brush it for a while so it was a permanent tangled mess. I got annoyed and ending up cutting all of it off, it was beginning to be a liability anyway. That was a while ago, and my hair has grown slightly below my ears since then.

Finally as comfortable as possible lying on the concrete floor with a thin blanket and a full backpack as a pillow, I drift off to sleep, letting the lullaby of the storm carry away my consciousness.

Four hours later I wake to the sound of a stampede of footsteps. I'm fully aware of my surroundings within seconds and snap my gaze at the dirty window on the far wall. The storm has passed but there is still a slight drizzle of rain.

I hear someone whisper yell some commandments and I jump to my feet quickly. No time to pack the blanket I was using I scoop up my backpack and go to sprint out the door to my right, the door opposite to the door I heard voices from, slipping my backpack on in the process.

However, I hesitate when I reach the door knob. A feeling at the depths of my gut tells me that it won't be as easy to run this time. I take a step away from the door and look around for any source of escape. I feel something wet drop onto my nose, then my forehead and then my cheeks. I look up, and my prayers were answered.