Thunder

The thunderclap makes me spring into action.
I sat in my bed, my legs crossed, arms wrapped around myself, thinking of you. The fabric of my sheets felt hard against my bare legs, the mattress dipping under my weight and rustling with every breath I took. And you know how I need to remind myself to breathe, when you take over the space in my head.
The room grew darker in that way it does before a storm, when the sky loses colour, but still you can see the light hiding just out of the line of sight, afraid of the destruction that will come. A golden ray teases you, beckons you to look for it, but no matter how you try, it will never be found.
The windowpane shakes, feeling the vibrations in the air before my ears pick them up. As every time before, thunder crashes and rips through the air, followed by the rain. It comes from nowhere and fills the streets instantly, with passersby running, squelching, trying to keep dry to no avail. The rain is too fast, too massive. Nothing escapes it.
I run to the window, feeling the droplets splash against my legs, fighting the gusts of air, the cold and damp. As I manage to click the latches into place, securing my room, I remember…. If you were here, you would do this for me. You would keep me safe from the noise, from the cold. You’d chuckle, while holding me, call me childish, but still, you wouldn’t let go.
If you were here…

… but you’re not.