Happy New Year, friends. <3

* * *

It’s quiet here.

Calm.

Nearly peaceful. If only it wasn’t a prison.
   
 I sit on the wooden porch, my eyes trained on the forest of trees surrounding me. All is quiet. But beyond the trees, I hear the storm. It’s a thunder-booming, ground-shaking, rain-pounding-against-pavement kind of storm. Though for now, all I see is a wispy fog.

Quiet footsteps from behind me break my concentration. I glance behind me where River stands, holding two mugs of steaming tea. His deep blue eyes are trained on me. I turn away, looking back at the fog.

“You look like you could use some tea,” he says, his voice deep like a roaring ocean.

“And what does that mean?”

He shrugs. “It means you’ve been tracking the storm for over an hour and could use a break. So I made you some tea. It would be terribly sad if it goes to waste.”

His lighthearted attitude is why I get along with him. Though it often grates on my nerves, it brings me back to the ground sometimes. I take the mug in my hands, letting its warmth fill me.

I sip at the dark brew. River looks out against the barrier of the porch. “How bad is it?”

“What?” I ask though I know exactly what he speaks of. Sometimes I have to play games with him, too.

He leans his back against the wooden railing of the porch, flashing that half-smile he always has if he’s not completely smiling. “You know what I’m talking about, Audra.”

I detest that I enjoy hearing my name from his lips. But I do. There’s no denying it. I give a sort-of smile and sip my tea again before answering. “It’s strong, but I don’t detect any danger.”

“Good. The younger ones were worried.”

I nod. Too young to understand why no one wants them in society, too young to harness their abilities.

River sips his tea and says, “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I say, a little too coldly.

His eyes hold so much sympathy, I don’t know whether to let him hold me in his arms, or yell at him until he’s mad at me so he won’t give me that look.

“I know you wanted to go see your parents. To tell them you’re okay. I know you saw the posters. And the signs. I saw them, too.”

I shake my head, looking down into the dark liquid in my cup. I set the mug beside me and stand. I stare out at the gravel pathway leading to our humble home. All the rejects of society, the ones who are gifted to do amazing things, we live here. The world doesn’t accept us as we are.

“My parents don’t know who I really am. I just… I thought I could tell them I was safe. That I don’t want to come home. But you know he won’t let me do that. And besides that, I can’t lie to my parents. I want to go home. I hate it here.”

“I like you here.”

I feel the traitorous blush rush my cheeks. “I know you do,” I manage to say, keeping my voice even. “And there are days that I don’t miss the hiding, the fear for my life if anyone finds out. But nothing will ever replace my mom holding me when I’m hurting or my dad’s crazy life advice. Nothing.”

“Do you ever wish you were born without your abilities?” River says. It’s a threatening question, a question no one should answer.

I feel brave, standing here at the edge of the porch, a light mist now falling from the sky. Thunder can now be heard by everyone else. And I’m torn up by the answer that breaks me down every single time River asks me.

This isn’t the first time he’s asked me. It won’t be the last. My answer never changes, never falters. And as I let the light spattering raindrops fall upon my skin, I know deeply what I want to say, to scream at the top of my lungs.

So for once, I do. I scream my answer loud, into the open. River doesn’t falter. He’s not afraid of me. Perhaps the only person who isn’t. And that’s why I like him. He isn’t scared of the answers I give, isn’t scared of the ideas I have. He accepts me for who I am. For who I want to be and who I’m not.

And all at once, I’m lost as I feel his arms pull me back on the porch as I once again slipped away from myself. We fall back, knocking over the mug of half-drunk tea. The rain now pounds against the wooden steps of the porch, having already soaked us to the bone.

“One of these days, I’m going to let you stay out there and see what happens,” he grumbles, though I know he would never act out his threats.

We sit up, realizing we’re still tangled together.

“Thank you,” I breathe out. “Again.”

He takes my wet, cold hand in his, entwining our fingers. His ocean eyes meet mine. “Always.”


I nod. “Always.”

* * *

This is not just a short story. It's my new W.I.P. More snippets and stories from The Storm will be coming soon. <3

~Brooke