Montykoolaid
Well-Known Member
Chapter One“Thunder makes not Lightning”
Fat drops of rain made the weathered and abused concrete slick and dangerous as she made her way down the desolate collection of empty business storefronts, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her fingers found holds in the old brick and mortar of the long since failed dream of an entrepreneur. She leaned heavily against the wall as she cradled her pregnant belly and stared up at the roiling black sky, angrier than she imagined clouds could be. The inky lightless heavens swirled and rolled, punctuated by angry booming thunder that shook and rattled the windows surrounding her, as though nature herself was loudly protesting this moment.
“Please… just a bit more time…” Her soft whisper barely left her lips before being drowned in the building rage of the storm. She begged her exhausted body forward as another crack of thunder brought her to her knees. She thought she felt her strength being seeped from her bones with each and every thunderclap but could not bring herself to believe it. She tried to regain her feet, wrapping her fingers around the rusted silver of a decrepit parked station wagon’s door handle. She willed herself, drawing energy she knew she didn’t have, to get to her feet and moving again. She felt a kick made familiar by the last few months deep in her belly as life flowed back into her limbs from an unknown source. Warmth gushed into her chest, but something was wrong. The warmth turned to uncomfortable heat, her cheeks reddening and droplets of sweat beginning to collect in the corners of her mouth. Her heart raced against her chest in utter surprise as the old vehicle suddenly and inexplicably shuddered to life at her touch, lightly idling at first but continually rising in power and noise.
Weathered and rusted green paint chips flaked off of the shaking but empty vehicle, the engine roaring and straining.
She stumbled away from the screaming steel shell as the engine fueled by some unseen force continued rising in power and noise. Taking refuge behind an upturned dumpster, she could only sob and clutch her belly before the station wagon reached a crescendo that echoed off the walls of the street, mocking the desolation of the area. Not able to constrain the energy desperately seeking release, the metal body began to glow red with heat that hissed and spit angrily at the cool drops of rain before exploding with a deafening crunch as bits of the car found solid objects in which to embed themselves. The dumpster rocked and slid a few inches from the force but held back the flames and shrapnel from her soft skin. The skies darkened further, casting a witching hour pall on the area despite the afternoon time.
She dared to look around the edge of her dumpster turned blast wall to find the station wagon gone with scorched earth and partially melted parking meters surrounding the area. Seeing that the blast had destroyed the front door of an old pawn shop, she made her way inside, seeking the darkest corner in the back in case the explosion had drawn the wrong attention. In this part of town, the only attention received was generally the wrong kind.
She could hear the wind groaning against the shop, continuing to build in power but releasing not a single flash of lightning. Just angry swirling clouds and horrible rattling claps of thunder as she clutched her torn and dirty sundress to her knees. "Why don't I feel contractions, like the doctors from the free clinic’s had described?” she couldn't help but wonder. Where were the birthing pains, the water break? Why couldn't she remember how she had come to this desolate, forsaken place? Her last memories before her eyes had fluttered open, finding her curled up on tufts of grass poking from the broken concrete of an empty lot, had been her familiar apartment. Though by no means ostentatious, it had been her home, her comfort. Making the rent had been easy, as it was based on her income or lack of it - as was usually the case. As lacking in the material goods as it was, she found comfort in the constant shelter found there. Things that did not leave or abandon her were a luxury in and of themselves, she told herself.
A trickle of sweat mixed with the tears sliding down her cheek as she felt the now familiar heat building and churning in her stomach only to spread through her arms and legs. "It’s not fair... It’s not fair," she continued whispering, drawing emotional strength from the mantra. Life had never been fair to her, and she had often thought about the vicious circle that was her family history of abusive, irresponsible kids giving birth to the same. There were no warm family stories passed down, simply snippets of rumors discussed with glee over hours-long phone conversations between her mother and current but ever changing stable of friends. It wasn't hard to imagine why her mother’s friendships never lasted, most calls ending with renewed dialing to a different friend with whom to gossip about the woman she had just spoken to. Her father consisted of story after fanciful story of firemen and movie actors when she was a child. She knew better now, understanding how too many drinks led to nameless, forgetful nights.
Light powder broke her thoughts as it gently floated down onto her hair and shoulders, silent as snow against the noise of the relentless storm. She peered through the gloom of the old shop to see the walls and ceiling curiously releasing the same dust. Realizing the truth of what she was seeing drove her face into her hands with renewed fear.
The walls of the old building had begun to disintegrate, slowly at first, powdering as though being ground to dust before lightly falling to the floor. As the heat from inside her grew, the tingling began. Tiny sensations of being static shocked grew to unbearable jolts of pain as the walls and ceiling began crumbling altogether, chunks of plaster now freeing themselves and thudding all around her.
Though the electric lines to this area had long ago stopped feeding these storefronts, a slight hum began. A single light bulb, forgotten years ago and left among the garbage and debris of a forced eviction, lay a few feet from her, and it was this that had caught her attention with its hum. She stared intently, not knowing what to expect of anything around her. It was a lesson learned since the beginning of her pregnancy. A corner of her mouth twitched, attempting a smile as strange and oddly bittersweet memories began flooding her. Having never lived life as the perfect example or role model she wasn't terribly surprised to hear the news but at the same time could not connect any particular pairing with the general conception time. The common fears that would accompany most mothers in her position about her ability to care and raise this child with at best small temporary jobs washing dishes were superseded by one. She was going to be a mother. Of all the draining days she had lived in her life, it was the one when she was vulnerable and dressed in only a thin paper gown sitting on a cold paper covered exam table that shined in her memories. Hearing the nurse practitioner tell her that she was pregnant had made her try to turn her life around, if only for her future child. But this was also when the unexplainable had become the norm in her life. Sporadically flickering lights and electronics acting of their own accord were frightening at first, but it was the gradual rise in occurrences as her pregnancy progressed that was truly beginning to worry her.
The light bulbs hum became louder as it began to wobble, the wobble quickly becoming a frantic dance as the light suddenly flared with brilliance before shattering. The light in the room, however, did not dim. She frantically looked around searching for this new source of light illuminating the room, but it was not until she looked down at her own round belly did she realize the glow was coming from her stomach. All her doubts, all her rationalizing flew from her in that moment as she realized the truth of her unborn child's connection to the odd happenings around her. Uncomfortable heat prickled her skin as the glow began to spread, debris around her starting to gently shake and move. She closed her eyes, willing time to please move slower.
The clouds suddenly ceased their wrathful show of rain and wind. They quickly dispersed leaving the sun free to try and spread hopeful rays over a new scar on the ground. A smoking hole obscured by gently wafting debris and ash floating back down to earth was all that was left of an old pawn shop.
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“Mona... wheres your car?” Cheryl asked, voice oddly hushed. Digging through her purse, all attention directed towards her search for her keys, Mona continued following her friends footsteps oblivious to her surroundings. “Right where I parked it Cheryl, who on earth would want to steal that piece of...” her snippy remark died on her lips as she stopped hunting in her purse and looked to where Cheryls gaze was frozen. It was not hard to piece together what had happened, her parking space missing a green station wagon but now occupied by a large dark black scorch mark. The damage of a blast was obvious along the walls and broken windows near where they had left the vehicle, but it was the completely missing building that drew the two woman towards it like a magnet. Slowly making their way to the smoking hole, Mona suddenly started running towards it. “What the hell are you doing Mona?” Cheryl shouted after her. Suddenly Cheryl heard the faint sound that had started Mona sprinting, and she started doing the same right behind her friend. An infants distressed cries faintly wound their way out of the smoking crater.
