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Thunder Being

© 2018 Jennifer Engel, All Rights Reserved

Tag

poetry

Drifting

Author’s Note:  I publish the most recent update first.  In order to get the full sense of the story, school the first post and read backwards.  

Synopsis:Michelle had been hearing voices, now with her senses are on over drive, she is beginning to experience an emotional break down. 


Michelle just wanted to stay inside of herself

and never

come

out.

She rocked back and forth

in a ball on the hard floor

trying to give herself

some semblance of comfort.

She was aware of

a warm, caramel macchiato sound

that the school’s social worker’s voice

always produced,

and it was currently trying to drip out

words

of

comfort.

It’s not that Michelle didn’t want

to respond.

It’s that

she couldn’t.

As if

she was becoming lost

from the inside

out.

As if

she was drifting away

towards  the shores of reality

towards some other foreign, unknown  land.

She didn’t know the route

that was about to take her there,

nor did she know the route

that would take her back home

If that

was even

an option

at all.

And so

she just

kept

drifting….

Breaking Down

Author’s Note:  I publish the most recent update first.  In order to get the full sense of the story, school the first post and read backwards. 🙂 

Synopsis:Michelle had been hearing voices, now with her senses are on over drive, she is beginning to experience an emotional break down. 


She briefly remembered

hands on back

a voice asking,

“Are you okay?”

Does it look like Im okay?!

She tried to scream,

but her voice

became lost inside of her.

She felt like Alice in Wonderland

descending down

further and further

into a dark, seemingly endless, tunnel.

And yet eyes and voices

tried to

penetrate past her senses

and catch her before she fell too far.

Hands grasped her biceps

and lifted her out of her chair

which caused her coil into herself

like a rolly-polly does when touched.

The touch,

combined with her already exposed nerves

seemed to cause her to keep retreating

farther and further into herself.

She fell…                      

                                   …further…

…and further….

…into…

                                                                               … her … …own world.

                                                  A place of peace…

… a sharp contrast…

                               … to the concerned…

…anxious adults…

                                                                          …around her.

Emotional Storm

Synopsis:Michelle had been hearing voices all morning, but no one around her seemed to be hearing the same thing.  She decides to get up and splash some cool water on her face to try to make them go away.  It didn’t work and now all of her senses are on over drive and are ready now to explode. 

The chant then became

a broken record

slowly growing louder

which each skip and beat:

Bum-bum

Bum-bum

Bum-bum

Bum-bum

The Thunder Being is coming… Bum-bum

The Thunder Being he comes… Bum-bum

The Thunder Being is coming…Bum-bum

There is no place to run! BUM-BUM!

Emotions churned inside of her

as if she were on a boat

at sea

during a violent storm.

The waves were never ceasing.

Increasing in ferocity,

which left her feeling restless

and irritable.

She didn’t know what to do anymore

other than to hunker down

and wait it out

right there in the art room.

She wrapped her arms around her head

unleashed a well of tears

and began to softly say

yet increasing with intensity…

“Stop it.

Just Stop it.

Stop it!

Leave me alone!”

Then everything around her

seems to turn into

a tornado

of chaos and commotion.

Anxiety

Synopsis:Michelle had been hearing voices all morning, but no one around her seemed to be hearing the same thing.  She decides to get up and splash some cool water on her face to try to make them go away.  It didn’t work and now all of her senses are on over drive. 

Time stood still

as she tried to force her body to believe

the implication of

her own words.

And when she finally opened her eyes

he was gone, almost supernaturally,

yet behind he left a lingering

sense of oppression.

Michelle stood alone for a moment

absorbing the quiet stillness around her

as if trying to force some sense of sanity

back into her very being.

Defiantly, she opened her eyes

and began to walk back towards the classroom.

As if crossing that threshold

could save her.

And yet, with each step

the voices

seemed to

follow:

Bum-bum

Bum-bum

Bum-bum

Bum-bum

The Thunder Being is coming… Bum-bum

The Thunder Being he comes… Bum-bum

The Thunder Being is coming…Bum-bum

There is no place to run! BUM-BUM!

They started softly enough,

quiet,

like

a heartbeat.

Yet

increased

with each

dreadful step.

By the time Michelle opened

the heavy wooden fire door,

the sound was becoming more

than just noise.

It was becoming weight,

pushing down to the point

where she felt as though she were wearing

heavy winter clothes.

And as she manipulated her way back

through the mesh of desks and chairs and chattering students,

she felt as though she was trudging through deep snow,

as if gravity was increasing its pull.

She felt ten times her own weight.

And the music and the noise and the bright lights

only added to her state of confusion.

Her senses seemed to be on overload.

Her anxiety was growing,

like a balloon about ready to pop.

She felt light headed and dizzy

and as if all of her nerves were exposed.

Not Real

Synopsis:Michelle had been hearing voices all morning, but no one around her seemed to be hearing the same thing.  She decides to get up and splash some cool water on her face to try to make them go away. 

What is happening to me?

She thought to herself.

She shut her eyes

and took a deep breath.

When she opened them she saw,

at the end of the long, brightly lit hallway,

what almost looked like

a cloud of mist.

The type of mist one might see

at the break of a cold day

rising up from a warm body of water

into the cool morning air.

In front of the mist

was a dark swirling fog

like ash dancing

around a fire.

And in front of that

was such an immense figure

that his presence

filled the entire hallway.

Instantly

Michelle dropped down

into

a fetal position.

She placed her palms

over her hears

and said out loud to herself,

“He’s not real.”

Followed

Synopsis: Michelle had been hearing voices all morning, but no one around her seemed to be hearing the same thing.  She decides to get up and splash some cool water on her face to try to make them go away. 

She wasn’t stupid.

She read Harry Potter, when Hermione told Harry,

“even in the wizarding world,

hearing voices isn’t a good sign.”

She scanned the art room

searching other faces

to see how they too might be reacting

to the outside environment around them.

The other students seemed oblivious

smiling and chatting

wrapped up in their own conversations

and the gossip of the day.

She got up and grabbed the pink hallway pass

which was attached to a simple lanyard

that was always kept on a hook by the door

inside of every classroom.

She thought to herself,

if I can  just splash some water on my face,

get up and move…take a deep breath,

the voices will go away.

Once  she was away from the light and noise,

alone in the quite, cold stoned walls of the bathroom,

she pushed a round button

of a silver plated faucet with slight force.

Cool, clear water cascaded out

which she cupped her hands below to catch,

and raised to her unadorned face

which she slapped slightly.

Even her slight footsteps echoed in the bathroom

as she went to get a paper towel out of the dispenser.  

As as she did so, then again she began to hear

the drums and the chanting that went along with them:  

Bum-bum

Bum-bum

Bum-bum

Bum-bum

The Thunder Being is coming… Bum-bum

The Thunder Being he comes… Bum-bum

The Thunder Being is coming…Bum-bum

There is no place to run! BUM-BUM!

Her heart began to beat

faster than the rhythm of the drum she was hearing,

and she felt a course of adrenaline

shoot throughout her body and stop once it reached her finger tips.

Who was this Thunder being?

Why was it coming,

especially for her?

And would she even be able to make it out of the bathroom?

As Michelle maneuvered her way  back to the classroom,

through the empty alabaster hallway,

she couldn’t help but feel as if

she was being…followed.

Zack

Synopsis: Michelle had been hearing voices. She was looking around the art room to see if anyone else had heard them as well.

No one indicated anything. They were so engaged in their art
they didn’t even seem to notice the storm outside.
Not only that, but they were so engaged with their conversations,
they seemed to ignore their art.

This was typical for young adults,
just barely entering their teens.
More often than not they have a hard time realizing
there is a whole world outside of themselves.

Instead, like many school children
who do not value the opportunity of a free education,
they were more focused on discussing the weather
and other popular gossip of the day.

Zack,
a boy in which Michelle had become quite found of,
over the last several months,
must have seen her emotions betray her
for he asked if she was okay.

Michelle looked into his eyes
which always reminded her of Robin’s eggs,
except instead of containing a hard outer shell
his baby blues could break through any barrier.

His piercing stare always made her feel uncomfortable,
so she never looked into his eyes for long.
“Yeah” she said shaking her head,
as if trying to shake the voices out as well
“I think I just need a drink…”

She paused, pressed her palms into her olive complexion
ran her hands past her cheek… over hear ears
through her hair… and down the back of her neck
trying to ease some of the tension that was beginning to build up inside of her.

Introduction to “The Thunder Being.”

As a new author, I am still trying to find my voice, my structure, my story.  The story that has been living inside of me for four years. I started with “The Thunder Being,”  moved to “Momma Bloom’s Island,” and ended up at “Left Brain Right,” which never felt quite right.  After a discussion with my writer’s group, they basically told me, “go back to the beginning.” I have to agree with them, so here I am.

The posts will be infrequent, yet on a schedule.  I meet with my writer’s group on the 1st and 3rd Saturday of each month, so that is when I will post.

Feedback desired and welcome.  All rights reserved.  – Jennifer

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all of those who are lost in the dark

Who ambushed by their own anger
or the anger of others

To those who are bereaved by bitterness

To those caged in chaos

To those who are destined for destructiveness

To those who fight fear

To those who are hostage to hopelessness

To those incarcerated by impatience

To those jailed by jealousy

To those locked up in loneliness

To those manipulated into misery

To those penned up by panic or paranoia

To those who’ve been sent to the stockage of self-hatred

To those who are tied into being timid

To the unconcerned and unforgiving

To those victimized by violence

And to all who want a way out

Chapter 1

They Come

Bum, bum Bum, bum
Bum bum, Bum bum
Bum, bum Bum, bum

The Thunder Being is coming: Bum, bum
The Thunder Being he comes: Bum, bum
The Thunder Being is coming: Bum, bum
There is no place to run!

A sound wave from a loud crack of thunder
fiercely pierced and infiltrated it’s way through
the thick, cold stone walls of Hellen Keller Junior High
and coiled its power around the hearts of the students within.

A flash of lighting wedded itself to the thunder
escaping from the dark cloudy chasm above
illuminating the oppressive overcast sky
which only add to the atmosphere of anxiety.

Michelle had been hearing voices for days
and she didn’t appreciate the fact that
the weather seemed to be mirroring
what was going on inside of her mind.

At first the voices were soft and gentle
like a little gnat buzzing in her ear,
but slowly, with each passing minute,
they were growing louder…and stronger

She wasn’t stupid.
She read Harry Potter,
when Hermione told Harry,
“even in the Wizarding world hearing voices isn’t a good sign.”

She scanned the art room
searching other faces
to see if they too might be reacting
to the outside environment around them.

 

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