First came the lightning, then the sound it made crashed into my ears. It was bright and clearly closer than it had ever been before. Fear, the kind of fear that could be considered phobia-like, struck the core of my being. I’d never been afraid of thunder and lightning, not even when I was little, but this – this was different. It felt like it was happening to me; like I was outside in the middle of the night, in the midst of the storm.

            It struck three times consecutively, creating such aloud thunder that I wouldn’t have been able to hear anything else in that moment. That was when I started praying. I was never really the overly religious type, but I was religious enough to find this wrath of the black sky to be suspect of higher power. In that moment, I prayed like I had done something so terrible, so unforgivable, that God himself was going to punish me. I can’t remember exactly what I prayed, but there was something in there about protecting me, the house, and my family (not necessarily in that order). As I prayed, I could still hear the elements roaring and flashing with fury. Then. The headphones went on and I put on something – anything to block out the clashing noise. I couldn’t afford to think about it, because my mind always went to the worst, most irrational thoughts. I would blame myself as if I had some hand in the weather. This wouldn’t be happening If I just held the door for that lady or if I had put the dishes away without being told. Yes, in my mind at that point, moving or not moving solid objects could cause all of God’s fury to rain down.

            When the time between flashes lengthened, I breathed a small sigh of relief. It wasn’t me, I mean of course it wasn’t me, but now we have undeniable proof that it – Hail at midnight. The hail beat down on the roof like it was owed money, and it is more literal here than most similes, because the hail sounded like it was the size of a gangster’s fist. I didn’t worry too much though. the hail would do damage, that was clear, but it couldn’t hurt me. It couldn’t hurt me! then, it began to hit upon the window, threatening to break the glass. I got that feeling again, the one where everything is all my fault. This hail freaked me out, not because it was more dangerous, but because it was more tangible to me. I can imagine the hail killing me, either by remembering the past winter when someone’s snowball was more ice than snow or imagining the feeling of being stoned. But I cannot speak of any memory of the pain of electrocution. That was my problem. I could imagine being pelted over and over, my flesh burning and crying out of pain until me lifeless body lay there; reacting only be the push of the ice-stones that continued to beat down on my body. The helplessness of the situation made it worse to imagine. The attacker nothing more than water vapor, floating above me, higher than my realm of touch.

            And so, I prayed again, “God, oh God, save me! Save us! I can’t live, or rather, die like this! I can’t bare to think about it any longer! The fear grips me down to the core of my heart and I can’t go on! I CAN’T GO ON!”

            I don’t remember what happened next. Maybe I sobbed on the floor, hearing the atrocious death rattle on my window. Maybe I just passed out into a sort of peace. Whatever happened next, one thing was certain, the hail at midnight had subsided. The storm wasn’t over, mild flashes of lightning still peaked through my window, but the pain and fear were over. I was safe again.

            I climbed into bed and pulled my covers tight around me. I didn’t care if hail such as the hail that midnight came again, for in that moment, I felt warmth, joy, and most important of all; safety.