Mrs. Jacobson P.O.V.
The sound of someone knocking on the door in the middle of a long summer night woke up a mother from her deep sleep. The thirty-six-year-old woman slowly got up, still groggy from the sleep that was so rudely interrupted. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she looked at the clock and saw that it was 1:30 in the morning. Groaning, she rolled over and put the pillow she was using over her head. With sleep impossible with the new set of knocks coming from the door, she got up reluctantly.
By the time she got to the door, the knocks seemed almost deafening to her still sleeping mind. The woman squinted through the peephole and saw two police officers soaked from the pouring down rain standing on her front porch. Knowing this won't be good, she opened the door slowly, trying to hold back how scared she truly felt.
"Hello officers," she said without sounding like what she truly feels.
"Hello ma'am. Are you Mrs. Jacobson?" the officer on the right asked in a soft tone.
"Yes, I am, now what can I do for you officers?" Mrs. Jacobson asked as calmly as she could, still keeping her composure.
"We have some bad news, Mrs. Jacobson," The officer on the left said as they take off their hats. "it involved your son Logan," he went on in a calming voice full of sympathy.
"Is...s... He...he... all... alright?" she asked, her voice now breaking as she loses control of her emotions.
"I'm afraid not ma'am," answered the officer on her right as he moved closer to her so he can try to comfort her for what was to come next.
"H... how ba... bad is he hu... hurt?"
"A powerful blast of lightning, which proved too much struck him; he was dead by the time anyone got there. We are very sorry, ma'am."
Upon hearing this, the woman fell against the closest officer with tears pouring out; staining the officer's still wet uniform.