More than expected

He was awoken by a dream. The soundscape of the home had long since died off. No feet lumbered up the stairs. Pans lay cold and clean in their drawers. His walls had ceased to vibrate. The window above his head allowed a narrow column of soft light to stretch across his ceiling. His curiosity began to stir as the fading dream still flashed in his mind. He pulled off his blankets, filling the room with frantic rustles and muffled pops. When he kneeled at the window pane, it was like a thin sheet of ice, and he was close enough to feel a chill against the tip of his nose. As the expanse was revealed in the small frame, his dream paled in comparison and was lost forever.

The world looked as if it were forged in silver in the meek rays of the moon. Trees and houses had lost their color but retained a grey hue that sometimes looked almost blue. His eyes began to trace the diagonal lines of what looked like a pile of roofs from his second-story window. He had reached the 4^th peak when it suddenly seemed farther away. Something else had situated between his eyes and the silver cast of roofs.

It had started slowly, but it seemed to have just appeared when he noticed it. Everything became coated with motion. At first, he questioned his own sight because it seemed to fall right through the earth. Slowly, the air outside began to glisten, and transparent pearls started running races down the glass. His world was still silent. The spotted glass was enough to stop whatever, if any, sound from reaching him. Then it pulsed, like the drops had expanded mid-flight, and the first wave of static hit his ears. It howled then whispered as if a bucket were being emptied from the clouds, and it took a moment to refill. Only now could he call it rain.

The roofs could no longer hold his interest as flickering glass streams fell before his eyes. The night seemed to get brighter now that millions of reflecting crystals filled the air. If he looked hard enough, he could follow a single drop fixed in his vision as it descended to the darkening concrete below. Then, his eyes refocused on the vibrating colony that now inhabited his window. What could have been hundreds of clear beads now ran, embraced, grew, shrank, and dissipated into long curving lines within his sight. These seemingly sentient beings danced to the soft patter of a lullaby. The same lullaby that took him away from the bustling little world and into his own mind.

He yearned to step into the rain, but it was the middle of the night, and the lonely dark walk down the stairs was enough to keep him wanting. However, from his side of the glass, he could fall into sweet fantasies. He closed his eyes and felt droplets land gently against his forehead and cheeks as he tilted his head toward the clouds. Brisk vibrant air filled his nose with every deep breath. He imagined how clean and stable the earth beneath his feet would feel as all the dust and leaves were whisked away, leaving a shimmering coat on the ground.

As he stared at the soft grey sky in his mind's eye, the clouds slowly descended, growing darker as they loomed closer. Soon they enveloped him like plombs of smoke. A flash of light forced his eyes to open, and thunder fired like a canon. His whole room shook, causing him to fall backward on his bed. Laying back, he could no longer see the world outside his window. He now watched as the glass bowed every time the wind roared. He slowly propped himself back up and began to crawl towards the window. He kept his distance this time. The window no longer seemed like a trustworthy barrier as the wind pelted it with water that burst on impact. The glass streams he had marveled at were shattered, and the pieces were violently thrown around by the wind, giving form to its invisible gusts. He looked up to his ceiling at what sounded like the world’s armies running to war on top of his roof. Again, bright light cast his shadow against the back wall, and thunder fell like a mortar shell.

He threw sheets and blankets in the air as he dove underneath. His knees, covered in pajamas, were pulled up to his chin as he covered his ears. The blankets slowly floated down and seemingly hovered just above his clothes before their weight quickly pressed down and sealed him inside. He tried to fill his mind with glistening puddles, floating leaves, and racing water on car windows, but they were all consumed by the black clouds that still stormed through his mind.

The thunder had become more frequent, and war still waged just beyond his ceiling, but a new sound soon joined the ensemble. It started as a small trickle like the bubbling of a brook. Then it began to crash as water fell and rippled into itself. He could barely discern this sound from the others he tried to keep out, so he remained beneath the blankets. However, when the air within his nose became thick and dank, he pulled the covers from the top of his head.

           His eyelids quivered as they pulled back in disbelief. Arches of murky water burst through the seams of his door. Foam gurgled up as the water crashed into the dark lake that surrounded his bed. He quickly pulled his blankets to the side and dashed to the foot of his bed but it began to violently tilt and sway. Water was thrown into the air as one of the corners dipped down. The drops landed heavily on his forehead and cheeks, leaving trails of grime as they crawled down his face. The water turned white as it reflected a lightning flash, and his bed shook at the thunder. As he settled back to try and calm the bed's lurking, it continued to rise. He quickly looked up when he saw the shimmering abyss had engulfed half his door.

           Light burst through the window and revealed his ceiling descending on him, and when it faded, he could only feel its presence condensing the air above his head. He braced his hand into the soft mattress as it bobbed on the water, then planted his right foot. He shot his arms above his head, and his flat palms made contact with the ceiling when his arms were still bent. He had never touched his ceiling before. It had always seemed so far away, and now that it was against his palms, it was rougher than he expected. When he would stare at it, daydreaming, he always imagined it being soft with a fuzzy surface like felt. But it was course and had a dusty feel against his hands like sand.

Pressure from the mattress caused his knees to bend, so he shut his eyes tight and began to push. His legs strained in unison as he pressed his shoulders against the ceiling. A fire was lit within his body, and he felt it burn just below the surface of his skin. He continued to strain as the mattress was pushed farther down. His soul began to glow with perseverance as he felt his legs straighten. Soon, his knees locked, and his feet were planted triumphantly on the bed.

His heels began to lift, then the arches of his feet. Only his toes remained in contact with the mattress as it continued to sink. His pointed feet lay suspended in space as he became painfully aware of the silence and the freezing water that was now creeping up his neck. The sound of roaring rain, thunder, and wind was suppressed by the water that had long since submerged his window. Now, only the quick echoes of his splashing hands filled his ears, and he could feel the vibrations against his head as fat raindrops laid siege on his roof. His feet flailed franticly, seeking solid ground. Cold water splashed on his face, mixing with the hot tears pouring out of his eyes. His heart was heavy with a weight that it had never carried before. As he gasped at the remaining air between his ceiling and the rising water, all he could think was I wish it never rained.