pit, pit, pat
pit, pit, pat
patter patter
The sounds of rain
getting louder
stronger
Near viscous was the rain when it smashed itself into the glass. It was if it was trying to put out a fire.
In the truck however, there was no sound. It could not be heard over the deafening silence of another failure.
The water could not quench this fire.
"Why?"
Raspy and choking a voice struggled against the silence.
"I could have been anything."
...
...
"ANYTHING!"
THUUN!
Thunder bellowed out into the sky, it seemed God could not hold his laughter any longer.
"Rejection after rejection, job after job..."
Tears soaked the near black leather of his father's old pickup truck. It was so old now that the stains could no longer simply be cleaned off, they had fused into the material.
The wheel was wet with tears, his dry, cracked knuckles clenched white at the rim.
"I was never fit."
THUUN!
"I was never charming."
Crackle!
"I can't remember the last time I even had a friend..."
BOOM!
"And yet..."
The heavens rumbled.. eager... waiting..
"I HAD A FUTURE DAMN IT!"
The truck shook.
The thunder however, did not.
The thunder ROARED.
And with it, a bolt of black light shot down from the skies.
The previously open street was crushed and shattered in front of him. The massive blast shook the street and the truck began to tremble from the shock.
however the man's voice did not tremble.
"Lightning?!"
He crushed the gas pedal under his foot in rage.
"After everything you have put me through, lightning will never be enough!"
The light poles to either side of him had been wrenched from their place in the ground and ripped through the air towards him in the silver moonlight.
asphalt and rubble arced through the air like boulders.
His scream started to mix with the bellows of the engine, both man and machine roared in unison as they launched themselves into the devastation of crushed street and melted cars.
The truck crushed and crashed through rubble and rock as it rumbled through the destruction, the flat wheels shaking on their hinges.
Dust coiled in the air, obscuring vision.
Beyond this fog however, a silhouette could be seen.
The hood was long gone now, twisted into scrap and heaved off into the night.
The body of the truck had dents so large they were no longer dents but instead holes.
The bed of the truck was no longer a bed, as it no longer existed.
In some places only jagged edges of metal remained.
But by some miracle, or through sheer force of will, the man inside had not been killed.
He, and his truck barreled through the smoke seemingly through will alone.
And on the other side of the fog, lay a man with a silver watch on his wrist.
He wore a black business suit and a red tie. The most stereotypical of outfits for a business man.
The headlights illuminated his laying figure as he struggled to recover from the explosion.
Blood leaked from every orifice, and his arm lay limp.
The man in the truck widened his eyes in shock before wrenching the wheel to the right, rolling his truck into a closed book store.
The seatbelt snapped and he flew through the shop.
A crunch resounded in the empty store before the remains of his fathers truck rolled to a stop, pinning his body and crushing his legs.
His head drooped, and his eyes fell to the floor.
The last thing he saw before blackness overtook him, was the title of one of the novels that had flown off of the shelves.
"Ten Lucky People That Survived Lightning Strikes!"
His voice would no longer come out.
"How dare-
Hack!
Cough!
"You mock me... life"
"So...
'unfair'
The last word wouldn't come out.
How could they?
He was gone.