Dark Winds

by Ola

A/N Weeheee!! I just had to post this up. It’ll be a part of a very long story. So it may start a bit slow. Forgive me. It’ll pick up in pace soon! This is the story you can find on my website pictures too ) I would appreciate any type of review to tell me what you think about this. It’s supposed to deal with the supernatural, angels, romance, slight swearing, angst, and homosexuality, so if you’re uncomfortable with any of those, please don’t read. If you don’t mind, then enjoy!

Part 1-

I love this weather. When the wind starts to pick up, the huge gray clouds on the horizon whoosh through the sky, the air acquires a smell of earthy wetness, and crazed zigzags of lights crisscross the darkened heavens. I love to close my eyes then, and feel the elements on my face; the gentle fury, growing in strength, as the whole world awaits with bated breath for the storm to break. The larger tree branches start to sway as well, to a music all their own, and I, perched on one of the highest boughs strong enough to support me, gently swing with them. Yea, there is definitely no better feeling than watching a storm approaching while sitting high up in a tree and having an open view for miles and miles all around.

Fine, call me crazy for staying up there, but I do usually get down before the lightening gets too close. I value my life after all, despite all I may say to the contrary. Simply don’t listen to me when I get into that mood and you’ll be fine. And so will I, when I vent myself out. But I don’t want to think about that. Not today. Not now. Not when I can loose myself in the beauty of such a display of nature. And I do want to loose myself. To forget. That’s why I come here so often.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning. Yes, that would be nice. Outside of my insane observatory hobby, I am a college student, and term myself as no more bizarre then the next guy. Yea, I’m a guy, although some people do want to delude themselves and keep thinking I’m a girl. Go figure. Well, it’s not that hard. To figure I mean. Because I do have –ugh- somewhat feminine features. But I don’t want to talk about that either…

However,…fine. All right. Neither do I want to discuss the other thing, but since that’s rather the point of this story, I’ll have to start spilling my guts out someday, eh? –Sigh- So all right, I have longish hair –longer than normal guys, but not really that long since they only reach my chin-, and I’m pale, and I’m slim and rather tall, and –arrg- I have a “cute and pretty little face with long lashes and big, adorable eyes.” How can you not scowl at someone who would tell you that? I mean, it’s definitely not on my list of pleasant conversations. I guess you’ve deduced that I am not really ecstatic about my physical self. Well, here is the deal: my mental self isn’t that much better, I can tell you.

I’m rather on the quiet side. I try to loose myself in my studies, but when some free time does show up, I hike, or swim, or read. Alone. Not that I hate people or something; I just…have a hard time opening up to them and making friends. I don’t know. Perhaps they think I’m stuck up or something, or that I don’t want to be with them. –sigh-. And there’s that other thing. The loneliness. At first, I tried to ignore it, and it worked pretty well. I mean, I don’t need someone to read a story, or watch a sunset with. I don’t need someone to be with me when I cook or clean my apartment. I can take care of myself. I don’t need someone with me…but I do. Is that so difficult to understand? There is this void in my stomach, or perhaps somewhere else that I don’t know of. It’s all empty and dark, and it hurts. Not a lot, but rather in a dull throbbing, like a headache that is too small for pills but that is irritating all the while. And I don’t like it. At all.

Let me watch the clouds for a little time, will you? I need time to calm myself down. To push the hurt to a bearable level. The hurt, the confusion, and the self pity. Oh yeah. I realize that it’s all my fault. I just can’t do anything about it, and there are times, such as right now, when I wonder if people go out of their way to avoid me. Am I so different? Am I so damn…strange? Do you have any idea how much it hurts?

The lightning display has begun. Far away, the thunder takes its time to reach me, as if it too wishes to disregard me. Fine. Be that way. You’re still beautiful in your anger. Yeah, I’m a stupid ass. Whatever. I watch the roiling clouds, hoping to one day feel their freedom. Free from pain, free from strange looks, free from that spiteful little voice that won’t shut up in my mind. What a load of wishful thinking. But I still think about it every time I come here. Can’t hurt to try and hope…and pray.

I guess I’ll have to come back down soon. I would like to be brave enough to stay and fight the storm, here in my high keep, one day, but I’m a bloody coward. Or just not suicidal. I stay long enough to feel the first fat drops splattering against my bare arms before making my way down, looking on the horizon from time to time, as a last glance at the demonstration of power and splendor. After so many times of seeing the same thing, I still can’t get enough of the pure and terrible beauty of it all. A sadness invades my heart as I lower myself onto another branch. Once again, I have to capitulate. Once again, I won’t get what I want. And the worst part of it is, it is I who orders myself to leave. It is I who keeps myself on a leash. What a damn irony. But I keep on reaching for lower and lower branches…until a deafening roar sounds right above my head, temporarily blinding me, and shaking my balance to the core. You wanted to stay up there? Go right ahead. Didn’t know courting death was another of those strange hobbies of yours. Oh god. I couldn’t stop trembling. That had been a close one. Next one and you’re fried, right with the tree you’re still sitting on. No more daydreams, m’boy. As my vision cleared somewhat, I felt for the next branch with my left foot, lowered the other limb down…and slipped, crashing through the remaining boughs to land with a resounding thud onto the ground. Well, I tell myself it was a thud. I actually didn’t hear anything except the whipping wind and another peal of thunder. Fuck. What a wonderful day. My head hurts. Everything hurts. But I manage to sit up, then stand without too many curses. At least I had been pretty close to the ground when I fell.

With a growl, I drag my feet to my car, rummage into the right front pocket of my jeans, then the left…then all of them. Then I slam my fists on the gleaming metallic roof of the old sedan, glowering at the set of keys dangling nonchalantly from the ignition, and trying not to choke from my curses.

Oh yes, today has been a wonderful day indeed.