Chapter 43: Chained to The Storm

The Hallucination

Sometimes, I dream that Storm isn’t mine to carry.
That the skies are clear,
that the weight has finally lifted,
that I can breathe without lightning chasing me.

In that hallucination,
Storm is only a memory—
a whisper I can walk away from,
a shadow that never lingers.

But reality is cruel.
Reality reminds me—
Storm is still here.
Loud. Heavy. Unrelenting.

I tell myself she is not my burden.
I chant it like a prayer,
a fragile shield against the downpour.
Yet the truth strikes harder than thunder:
Storm is, and always will be,
the weight I never asked for,
the cross I never chose.

And maybe the hardest part
is knowing I can only pretend
for so long.