"Float" - Writing Contest Entry

Instructions

"Float" -------- Gale woke up with a start, shooting up from his bed, breathing heavily, eyes wide and unseeing in the dark. It took him a stunned moment to process what had woken him: the storm outside, rattling the windows and filling the room with the strikes of raindrops and occasional boom of thunder. His old home in Ukraine had been bigger than this apartment building, his bed against the wall instead of near the window as he shared a room with his two siblings, who slept on, blissfully ignorant of the chaos outside. Had he been in Ukraine- in home- he, too, would have slept on, in peace and quiet. Or so he told himself, as he thought bitterly of everything that had been torn away from him. He sat up, pushing down his blankets, ignoring the chill of cold as he made his way to the window, pushing aside the ratty curtains to reveal the window, covered with long streams of trailing raindrops that thumped against the glass and remained there, trapped between a storm and a hard place, creeping down and down, yet never finding a way to escape. He knew the truth- that if he was in his country, his home, he'd be like those stretched out drops of rain- trapped in a world of noise and darkness and fear and uncertainty- instead, he was trapped here. For the better, or the worse. He sighed, settling down besides the window and gazing outside. He missed his home, missed long days spent in a sun-kissed world that he could barely grasp the memory of in such a dark and stormy place- missed the peace and quiet that he felt simply couldn't exist, not here, maybe not anywhere- He placed a hand, flat against the cold window pane, a ghost of his reflection shining on the rain-streaked glass, gazing back at him with a tired face and weary eyes. He was tired. He was so, so tired of this all- of being trapped in this storm, this ocean of fleeing raindrops and roaring winds, and he'd struggled and screamed and fought against the waves that crashed into him and tried to drag him down- but he couldn't. Maybe he would, one day, maybe he would learn to swim, to grow stronger everytime he was torn down, until he rose to the surface of the ocean, and maybe somewhere, above the dark and cloaking waves was the sun- But for now, here he was, in this storm, this ocean. And, even if he wasn't swimming, at least he'd found the time, and a place, where he could float. Just get by. Just survive. Someday the clouds would clear, and the world- and he- could be free. But for now, pulling the curtains shut, and sinking back into the darkness- he floated.