The Storm

I hear the alarm. I wake up but I don't open my eyes. I don't want to pen them. I want to disappear. I want to escape. I get out of bed and shut off the alarm. It's raining. The clouds engulf the cityscape. Nothing is visible except the interstate and the cars that zoom past. I stand by the window, watching the storm outside. I stand by the window, watching the reflection. Dull. Clouded. Empty. I stare out at the cars. They can't see me. Not that they couldn't. Their too busy. Rushing to get to work or drop of the children. They don't notice me. They notice the storm. It's a nuisance, bother. It's nothing but an obstacle to them. I sit on the couch to watch TV. I don't watch the program. Not really. I listen. I listen to the voices. They keep me company. They keep me distracted. Distracted from the other voices. My thoughts. But soon, even the TV cannot distract me. I try to resist the thoughts as the surge over me. I try to ignore them. I push them away. It seems to have worked. Everything is calm. But then the wave crashes over me and I'm drowning. I'm drowning in my thoughts. "You're worthless. You don't have what it takes to achieve your dreams. You're too shy, too pathetic. No one would want you." I'm drowning. I can't breathe. I try to ascend to the surface, but the waves keep crashing down. They push me further. "You're weak-willed. You'll never stand up for what you want. You're a pushover. You let everyone walk all over you." My throat closes up. My head is pounding. I need air. I need to breathe. "You're such a child. You'll never grow up. You can't provide for yourself. You'll never survive in this world." The pressure builds inside me. My vision becomes blurred. My face is hot and I gasp. I gasp for air. And then they fall. Silence. The rain beats against the window pane while the tears stream from the windows to my soul. The storm rages on, both outside and within.