"The Impossible Storm"

 I sat at home, my heart racing as I peered outside at the oncoming storm. The sky was masked by a deep shade of night, but the streaks of lightning made the outside world look like that of flickering lights. Over the horizon, I could see the trees swaying in the heavy winds, threatening to tear them down.

I stepped back from my window, taking a breath. I was okay, I told myself. The storm is out there and I am in here. It can't hurt me.

There was a sudden flash of bright light, followed by an immediate explosive boom. The lights went out. The apartment fell under an uncomfortable silence as I could hear my heart beat pulsing in my ears.

I stood perfectly still, awaiting the worst.

But as I stood there, I listened closely for the next signs of the storm. However, they never came. It was just silent. I was confused, as I could still see the flashing lights. Stepping closer to the window, I could see the rain splattering heavily against it. The wind now tearing through the trees, debris picking up from the ground. Yet, I could still hear nothing.

I placed my hands against the window, hoping the vibrations would somehow guide me to how bad it was getting out there. But as I placed my hands on the window, I could see it beginning to crack.

My heart was racing now as I leaped back. The window broke against the heavy wind. But again, it was strange. I could see the disaster unfolding outside, but there was no wind, nor rain, nor even any sound breaking its way into my apartment. I expecting things in my room to go flying in a twisted whirlwind, but it was perfectly still. Perfectly still and dark.

I stepped closer to the window, only this time, I felt brave enough to stick my hand outside. Perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me. What if everything happening outside was some part of a simulation. I'd never particularly heard of anything like this happening before, but at this point it was the only sense of logic I had for the situation. I reached my hand of the cracked portion of the window and could feel the rain slamming down on my hand like tiny needles. I shot my hand back inside.

My brain was now fracturing, trying to make any sense of the weirdness unfolding before me. How could there be a horrible storm unfolding outside, yet no sign of it from in my apartment?

That's when my phone started to buzz. Had it been in my pocket the whole time? I'd completely forgotten about it in the jumble of things. I reached for it and looked at the screen, my eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness. The message on the screen said, "Wake Up."

What the hell was it talking about? Was I dreaming? But that made even less sense. Everything I had seen today, everything I had felt, it was all real. I'd gone to work to seven excruciating hours, I ate tacos, which I could still taste on my breath.

But no matter how real everything felt, would it really be out of the question to consider what I was facing was a dream? I mean, what other logic could I apply to the storm situation right now?

I tried slapping myself to 'wake up'. Nothing. I tried yelling at myself. To relax and hope my body would find itself out of the dream somehow, but nothing was working. I began to panic. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen. Was this really worth it? To do this level of harm to myself on a whim?

Then, the ceiling peeled away from the room I was in. The wind roared around me, shoving everything around in a fit of aggression. I could feel myself being knocked around, slamming against the walls and surrounding windows. Then, I was knocked unconscious.

***

I could feel myself being shaken by a heavy hand on my shoulder. I slowly opened my eyes and the world began to fade back into view. I looked around the room I was in and was surprised to find my apartment was still in one piece. I looked over to the man beside me.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"I'm your neighbor from across the hall," he replied. "I heard you scream as I was walking back to my apartment for the night. I tried knocking but when I didn't hear anything, I found a spare key under the welcome mat and raced inside. I found you collapsed and I tried to wake you up."

"But the storm..." I muttered.

"What storm?"

"The storm last night," I said, looking up at him. "It was bad, I thought we were gonna die."

"Hun, there hasn't been a storm here in the last, like, two weeks," he said. "You must've hit your head pretty bad."