The Storm
She woke in the middle of the night to the sound of rain pounding against the window.
It was loud, heavy, as if a waterfall were cascading over the glass. The moon was hidden behind dark clouds. Lightning flashed across the sky.
Thunder boomed. The wind howled outside her window, rattling the glass in the panes. There was no light from the moon. Just the dark.
It was cold.
So cold. Her breath fogged in front of her as she breathed. She shivered, drawing the covers up to her chin, but it wasn't enough.
It wasn't warm at all. Not even close. Not when the air itself seemed frozen around her. Not when the rain kept falling endlessly.
Rache sat up, wrapping the blanket around her body.
The fire in the fireplace was out.
She shivered again.
She hated how weak her body was.
She hated the way she could barely walk without feeling faint. The way she had to use every bit of her strength to stand. How easily exhausted she was.