The Sun After A Storm

Submitted into Contest #99 in response to: End your story with somebody stepping out into the sunshine.... view prompt

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Creative Nonfiction

She knew with every part of herself that it had been storming for years. She watched a lifetime pass before her eyes, all while the storm raged on. She could hear the volume of the others in the room slowly getting higher and higher, and unfortunately, there is not a mute button on arguments. She shut her eyes and dug her fingernails into her palms as an all too familiar feeling swelled up in her belly, “shut up...shut up...shut up!” she thought. She could hear the insults and accusations flying at her like debris in the wind, but the only response she could muster was to tuck her head down and take it. That was her job, that was her role, to hold all of the blame and all of the guilt so no one else had to deal with it.

The wind howled outside and she thought about how ironic it was that as their rage reached hurricane force speeds, the storm outside seemed to match it. She could feel the shingles on her soul shaking in the wind. She could feel herself shifting off her foundation and away from her truest self. While the unsteady feeling she had to embrace to survive was familiar, that didn’t make it any easier to accept. You might be grateful when you survive a storm, but that doesn’t mean sifting through the rubble when it has finally passed is much fun.

She had been used as a shield for years, and her maintenance care had often been neglected. While it hadn’t always stormed this often, the storms that did come were always severe. The wind would push and pull her until she was in pieces, and they would blame her for breaking. The rain would seep into her walls, and they would complain about her wilting. The trees around her would fall to their knees, and yet there she stood. They couldn’t see the strength that she had, because they were too busy trying to see it in themselves. 

On this night she was exhausted, and ready to give up. The thunder seemed endless, and the rain poured just like her tears did: constantly. Was this the storm that brought her to her knees? Was this the night she became the failure they so desperately needed her to be? 

She heard them call her tears a weakness, but that didn’t stop them from coming. In fact, if anything their insults only caused more. What they couldn’t see is that her tears were fueled by fury, not sadness. Her tears came from the part of her that knew she would have to choose herself over the storm. She would have to pull on some rain boots and walk through the mess it had made in order to see the sun again. The prospect of all of that work when she knew how weak her pieces had become was terrifying, but it was no longer an option.

Their voices sounded like tornado sirens, piercing and unforgettable. Finally she stood up and with her knees shaking beneath her she uttered “enough.”. They couldn’t hear her over their siren voices, so she mustered all of her strength to bellow, “That is enough!”. She looked around at the baffled faces in front of her, and she was sure they were shocked that a young woman was standing in front of them. She had spent so many years with her head down and hands out ready to take on whatever problems they handed her. How could she expect them to remember that she was in there? That she wasn’t just a shield? That she was human. 

As she stood there trembling, she realized the noise had come to a stop. The rain slowed outside and the booming thunder was miles away when she heard it again.The sirens had gone quiet, and in the stagnant, heavy air two simple words filled the room to its brim, “That’s enough.”. These were the only words she needed. She didn’t need to deflect the storm back at them. She didn’t need them to feel the earth shaking pressure that she had held on her shoulders for so long. She knew that they didn’t have to break to see that she had. She was stronger than that, even at her weakest. After all, all that she needed was quiet.

 She felt herself shifting back onto her foundation, her walls growing stronger, and she remembered the warmth that had once filled the walls of her soul. She had been so busy holding everyone’s world, that she forgot to maintain her own. She walked away that night, and with every day the rain seemed lighter. The sky got clearer with every act of love she showed herself. The thunder she once called a friend became an acquaintance, and she found that the puddles were vanishing one by one. 

Finally, one morning she opened her eyes to a light that she had only dreamt of. She could feel the warmth radiating from the windows, and she felt a smile spread across her face. It was the first genuine smile she had shown the world in years. She could feel the warmth that had once called her heart home knocking at the door, and as she got closer it was like she was getting ready to welcome an old friend. She unbolted the locks on her heart, and opened the door to a world that looked so new and inviting. At that moment, she was flooded with joy. It was the feeling of walking through a field of sunflowers on a summer day, or laying on a blanket on the hill with the person who feels like home. It was like seeing the streetlights come on as a child and telling mom, “but it’s still light out!” because there was too much fun yet to be had. It was the smell of chlorine and sunscreen, and the sound of your little brother jumping in the deep end. It was everything she had craved, and everything she needed. The warmth dried up what was left of her water damage, and she felt her heart heal. For the first time in years she stepped into the sun, and to her it felt like love.

June 20, 2021 04:20

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1 comment

Charie Pinemiss
22:53 Jun 30, 2021

Ohmigosh this is really good! A metaphor! In a story! EEEEEEEEEEE!

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