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My ceiling slopes a little. That’s odd. I’ve never noticed before. Of course, I usually don’t spend
all day staring at the ceiling, either.
To say that her head hurt was a bit of an understatement. Light didn’t really bother her, but noise at almost any volume
did, and Jess had agreed that she should stay home from school.
Strange memories were going through Kat’s mind. Things she had half-forgotten or hadn’t thought about in years,
things that didn’t seem to connect with the previous thoughts.
“Tell me about the day I was born, Eliot.” Eliot was twenty, his red hair dyed dark brown for the play he was
in, and Kat was fourteen. It was a rare day, a Sunday when Eliot was free for the day, and the family had gotten together.
It was just after lunch and they were sitting at the kitchen table, while the others were doing their own things.
Eliot chuckled. “You’ve heard this story a hundred times, Kitten. You could tell me.”
Kat smiled at her nickname, and grinned at the suggestion that she tell Eliot the story. “But I like the way you tell
it, Eliot. You make it sound exciting.”
They had gone through this exchange if not hundreds of times before, then still many, many times. Kat did like to hear the
story of her birth, especially from her brother, and he liked to tease her about it.
Eliot leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You were born at home. In this very room. I was able to watch
the whole thing. I was five at the time. It was very exciting, I got to watch. It almost made me want to be a doctor.”
He paused, looking at Kat.
She smiled, and continued the story. “It was raining. It had been storming for days and days. April showers and all
that.”
“Then the labor pains started. That part was kind of scary. I could tell Mom was in pain, even though she tried hard
not to scare me.”
“Then the thunder and lightning started. It was a terrible storm.”
“Mom was in labor about four hours. The storm lasted that whole time. But suddenly I could see your little head poking
out, and you looked scared. Like you didn’t know what was going on. You were whimpering a little, not really crying.
As soon as you were all the way out, the midwife handed you to mom, and she started cradling you, trying to get you to breastfeed.
And you stopped crying.”
“And the storm stopped.”
“And the storm stopped,” Eliot agreed. “It was amazing. The whole thing. The storm, the birth, you as
a tiny little baby. It was all amazing.”
Kat was lying in her bed, curled up under the covers. It didn’t help her headache, but it made her feel more comfortable.
Nothing was helping her headache. Jess had made her willow bark tea, which usually got rid of her headaches, when she had
them, but it wasn’t working.
Kat was twelve. She was in the spare room, trying to reassemble a clock she had found at a garage sale. It had been broken
at the garage sale, but she was pretty sure she could fix it. But she was getting frustrated. Nothing was working the way
she wanted it to.
After about an hour of trying to get it to work, she let out a frustrated scream and threw her tools at the wall. And she
was startled by a clap of thunder. Kat could feel tears starting, tears of frustration at her stupidity and inability to
get this to work, as she got up to look out her window. It was raining, and there was a flash of lightning and a clap of
thunder just together as she got to the window.
She could have sworn it was sunny and warm when she sat down with the stupid clock.
Kat had the lights off and the blinds on her windows pulled shut. It didn’t really help her head, and she couldn’t
sleep. Jess had finally broken down and purchased some pills. Kat’s family wasn’t big on artificial drugs, but
the herbal stuff wasn’t working. Jess had told her that if her headache stayed another day or two, they would go see
a doctor.
The medicine didn’t work, either.
Kat had just turned fifteen, and was walking home from school. There was a light rain. Her classmates had complained about
walking home in the rain, but she felt comfortable in the rain. Like she belonged. Like she was safe.
She was getting close to the subway when she noticed that someone was following her. She tried to look without catching their
attention; it was a man. Her heart was suddenly in her mouth as she continued on, quickening her pace. She tried desperately
to keep thoughts of robbery, rape and murder out of her head. The rain thickened as she got closer to the subway. And the
man got closer.
Her face was wet with rain, and her thoughts didn’t make sense. I can’t go into the subway station, I’ll
be out of the rain then. The rain protects me, I’m safe in the rain. Nothing can happen to me when I’m in the
rain. The rain thickened even more, making it hard to see, but somehow she never stumbled.
She could still hear him, though. It sounded like he was running. She felt something grab her arm, and sudden fear overwhelmed
her.
Suddenly, she was on her back, and she couldn’t see. Details about her surroundings asserted themselves slowly. It
was drizzling again, no longer raining hard. There had been a flash of lightning, very close. As the world started to focus
again, she could see that the man had disappeared.
She had been running from him. She felt him grab her arm, and she spun around to face him. As she did, there was a flash
of lightning just behind the man, sending him flying through the air. The lightning had blinded her temporarily and knocked
her to her feet. The man must have run away.
And Kat knew. Her headaches were gone, and she knew. She could do things. Things that a few years ago she would have said
were impossible. But a few years ago was before the first nova had erupted. She knew what she was.
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