Storm | Teen Ink


July 25, 2021
By SparrowSun ELITE, X, Vermont
SparrowSun ELITE, X, Vermont
200 articles 23 photos 1053 comments

Favorite Quote:
"It Will Be Good." (complicated semi-spiritual emotional story.)

"Upon his bench the pieces lay
As if an artwork on display
Of gears and hands
And wire-thin bands
That glisten in dim candle play." -Janice T., Clockwork[love that poem, dont know why, im not steampunk]

Rayne felt the rain assault her face. Drops of madness. She eyed the grey clouds above, then a sudden flash. Lightning. Thunder attacked her ears, never stopping, hitting until it hurt. Thunder thunder thunder. Then she stared down at the rocky cliff she sat on. And ahead, to the cliff and churning grey waters below.

She slowly walked to the edge and looked over, each soft footfall louder than the rain, louder than the thunder. The steps were thunder. The steps were as silent as death. Step after step, agonizingly slow, terrifyingly fast. Maddening. They stopped as she arrived and looked over. Then up at the chaos. Then back and the chaos. Then forward. The churning waters were unknown. They could be safety, calm, quiet.

She took another step. It made no sound, it didn't even make silence. Wind whistled in her ears as she fell. Then she woke from her thoughts for a brief, final moment. She had plunged. She closed her eyes, sighed, and collided with the insanity. Then she let go and left her mind. Insanity swept like a wave to take her place.

She was dead. The storm replaced her. The ocean replaced her. The madness within was unleashed.

The author's comments:

she wasn't dreaming or anything, it was all just a metaphor.

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