Her life had always been a thunderstorm.
The world around her had been filled with roars that made hands tremble and hair rise.
(The darkness of a closet was her safe-haven)
The air that gave life was so thick it choked you, the tension always building until it climaxed with a loud CLAP!
The lightning struck.
(Running from the tension ended with scraped knees and split lips.)
There were always raindrops in the storm
Droplets that stained cheeks and hid behind tired smiles
(The rain was no more than a drizzle during the day but at night it became fierce, torrential.)
The people near the storm always closed their doors and covered their windows
They didn’t want the rain to get it,
the lightning to scare their children.
(Oblivion is bliss for some, prolonged agony for others)
But then You arrived
Her first umbrella.
You were a vivid spot of red in the ocean of gray
An umbrella that didn’t get lost when the storm hit, but rather rested a hand on her
shoulder and opened in defense against the onslaught
You were the perfect umbrella
Contently tucked into a backpack,
A strong shield against the storm
Aiding in her rescue from the caging storm that raised her from birth and claimed her to
be a toy, something weak and
incapable of strength
But the umbrella made her invincible, a shield that turned her into a warrior
Warriors are not afraid of the thunderstorm
Umbrella’s sometimes save the world