One With the Storms

A girl finally finding the freedom she always craved

 The wind was the first thing I felt when I opened my eyes.  Then it was the wet mossy earth, the deep green valleys waving hello and goodbye to the trespassers that met it.  I sat up, grinning at the deep dark clouds that blanketed the infinite sky. Most people would enjoy the sun on their face, I personally deplored it, it was bright.  Storms, I loved storms, deep mysterious things that brought amazing things and thoughts. Storms bring the best thoughts and ideas with it, like packages being dropped on the doorsteps of the mind.  After a few more moments of contemplation, I stood on shaky legs. I had been running for hours, away from everyone and everything. I ran from the cruelty of my family and friends. They were like the sun, bright and demanding, and people thought they were better than they actually were.  Not me, I was the storm of the family, hated by most people but loved deeply by a few. That few are the ones who convinced me to run,

“Run Aella, leave this cruel town of hatred and judgment and find yourself a home of love.”

So for once I followed what was said to me, and I ran.  I packed up the few broken things I owned in a small bag, the bag no longer held any color.  I called it a storm grey, and during the deep star-filled night I ran, listening on bated breaths and cautious ears for screams.  None came to my relief and slight displeasure. Now here I was, I was free. Free is a scary word, it means choices and changes, but free is a beautiful word as well, it holds responsibility and self-love.  Like a safe with the hardest lock to pick. Now that I had this freedom, I could decide to do what I wished, I knew however to not take this lightly. Decisions are important. I reached into the bag, with all the possessions deemed important I pulled out a shiny pair of silver scissors.  With tears of joy from my newfound freedom and terror from the choices that come with it I brought the scissors to my head and started cutting. Littering the beautiful green with spots of auburn. 

 Once I pulled away I sighed, hoping that my hair turned somewhat even.  I shakily put the scissors back into the bag. I ran my hands through my now short hair and let out a bright scream of laughter, the laughter intermingling with the loud clashing sound of thunder.  I looked up to the sky the clouds swirling in the sky and the smell of rain filling my soul. I merely stood there, awaiting the tears of the clouds to pour down. Only moments later the sky broke and shattered, bringing down the tears of joy that the storm and I shared.  I danced around the valley, screeching in victory of regaining the freedom and happiness that the town I once lived in stole from me. As I twirled and pranced around the green the rain pelted down on me, cleansing me from the hatred and preparing me for a new life of responsibility and love of my own.  

After a few moments more of celebrating I stopped, facing the top of the valley with a large grin.  I slowly made my way to the peak, humming a mindless tune. Once I reached the top I could not believe what I saw.  There was a tiny hut, it was broken and battered but fixable. I started to run down to the hut, only to trip and roll the rest of the way.  I laughed and squealed on my way down. Once my trip came to a halt I stood, picking pieces of grass and leaves out my hair I walked to the front door of the hut, pushing on the creaking wood until it gave and opened, showing me the secrets it held so tightly before.  As I peeked in all I could see was dark besides the small patch of soft light that tumbled from the one window. As I took a deep breath, the unfamiliar stench of damp wood and rain I sighed, knowing that this is now my home. The rain did not subside, but I didn’t mind,

“A storm greeting a storm.”

I once again stood in the storm, allowing it to claim me as one of their own.  I was now free to be the storm I knew I was, I was free to be happy.