The Storm

Emma dragged herself from the dinning room table. She was angry at being left alone again. She was angry at Jenny for not hanging out with her. She was angry at fate for dealing her a raw hand with the loss of her parents. As her mood darkened, the weather turned to match. Rain could be heard pelting the old roof of the lake house now. Thunder was no longer distant and somewhat soothing, but closer and threatening. Emma exhaled her unhappiness. Wind rattled the old house.

Remembering her cousin's words about his fondness for storms, Emma shuffled to the front door. She opened the door and had to step back as thin sheets of rain nipped at her. The sky was blacker than Emma's mood, with the occasional crack of lightning illuminating the countryside.

Emma watched the rain fall, and the sky flash, letting herself breathe in the heavy ozone scent and calm down. Unlike her, the storm wasn't interested in settling down. Emma had to step back, then close the door altogether, as a fierce wind drove biting rain against her upper body. Her face was wet, and drops of water threatened to expose more of her breasts through the thin t-shirt.

Stepping back from the entrance way, refreshed from the cold rain, Emma leaned against the railing at the bottom of the stairs. The house shook in the storm again, wind rattling shutters and window alike. She doubted that Jenny would be able to sleep through this, hungover or not. Emma was tempted to go pester her, even if the teen had managed to doze off. Jenny could sleep when Emma was back at school. Thunder growled around the old house, seeming to mock Emma. Perhaps she would leave her cousin be and find someone else to pester.