Chapter 2

• I am Storm
• My name is Storm.
• Ironic to have such a name when at this very moment that is all I want to do is raise one hell of a storm (destroy everything and everyone that has been part of my torment in this basement). But my body is so weak, there is no strength in my legs to even get myself to the other side of this room to use that dreadful bucket at this moment. So, who am I kidding?
• They have not come down to empty the bucket despite it being built for weeks. Flies buzz over it and now maggots have emerged.
• No normal human should bear the smell, but what else is there to do when you must go? All I can do is hover and accept the bites of these damn flies give me each time they see the full moon. Believe me, it is white, but dirt still covers it from the lack of baths I get.
• My name, Storm, meant “I am to be fierce and feisty. It says that when walking into a room, that I am a force of wrecking and would work hard toward my goals and I have that determination to seek it,” or that is what my parents told me.
• My parents told me the first thing that popped up when they searched my name, but it made me smile. I need something to bring a smile to my face. Staying in this nightmare would make people want to cling to their memories.
• Memories of my past are the only light in my life as darkness surrounds me day in and day out. I drift back to the past.
• Being born in a small-town called Willow Pine, Wyoming was always charming. The skies seemed to dance with multi-colors often. It is as if a painting is right in front of you, but a camera would never capture its true beauty.
• The mountains change every day before your very eyes and every hill seems like it has its own story to tell, but if you listen enough with your ears and eyes wide open, you can figure it out.
• There are always springs that pop out of the mountains that have the best water you could ever drink in your life. It is so refreshing and cool, like you had an ice cube put in it, so as soon as you let it hit your tongue. Perfection!!!
• We would always hike or bike to the springs and bring back jugs the fresh water it provided. There were countless times we would splash around in the springs or during our horseback lessons we would rest in the shadows of the Bur oak, so our stallions could replenish before the journey back home.
• My horse’s name is Maximillian, and he is a mustang. Everybody swore I was crazy for preferring him out of the ten stallions we have in the barn, but something about him spoke to me. He is the gentlest boy ever, but no one else could get near him, it seemed.
• He has a bad temper suggesting to me that someone mistreated him before we got him and so he does not like anyone but me to ride him. Once Dad got on him, and Max bucked Dad right off. Anytime someone else assumes they can be man enough to hop on his back, they have another thing coming. Max teaches them by giving them one hell of a ride. I only hope he is managing since I am gone, and they are caring for him.
• I struggled to find a comfortable position to sit while my mind continues to wonder off to home…
• I treasured the people in Willow Pine because they were always friendly, so anytime you come there, you will never meet a stranger. In the winter it was cold, but we would go to the top of Mount Pike and ski or sled. The summers we would swim in the rivers near the Res camps because we knew they protected it and that also meant we would not get disturbed. Mining in the Res land is against the law, so they put it into place.
• No one can mine their land, period, or face the consequences. Let’s just say it is one of my favorite places to go because of the beautiful senary and the un-touch landscape but the most important thing is the history behind the land.
• I will say that one of my favorite memories is when my best friend and I would have snowball wars or build snowmen on the edge of Mt. Ida. My family would sneak off for a day to ski, and Christine and I would battle one another for a few hours. With Christine, I always had a great time.
• We created a competition to see who could create the best snowman for one year. The only problem was I got in trouble for putting boobs on mine while Christine put a penis on hers. Our parents laughed, but still told us they did not approve.
• Christine and I created many memories together. Roller blading around the school at nighttime down the sidewalks. Playing on the playgrounds while the schools were closed. We loved to ride our bikes to the nearest park and trek in the ponds, catching tadpoles just for the hell of it.
• Hiding under the bridges, telling our hidden secrets. Christine had the biggest crush on the star quarter back Christian Hockly but of course he would never bat an eye her way. He only had eyes for the Head cheerleader Melissa Channing. I just wanted to have peace, feel normal, but always got too much attention in school. There was so many people in school that wore a mask.
• They pretended to be something they were not, instead of just embracing who they naturally was. I did not care what people thought, I liked keeping my head down and the less attention on me the better.
• I could tell that they only wanted to be my friends because we had money. My parents were high up there in society. Now granted, no one would say I was ugly, so that was a positive, but I was not vain and did not care to be that type. I treated everyone equally, and that is why everyone loved me in school. I was popular in all crowds and was always elected for everything. Half the time declined…
• I remember Christine seeing a Jock named Nick tormenting a kid in class one day and sought her own revenge. She put glue on his chair and waited patiently for him to sit down. The class watched with amusement as he took his seat and started giggling. He thought the ladies were giving him attention, so he flashed a charming smile their way, causing more giggles to explode from their chest.
• Christine and I covered our mouths, trying to keep the laughter under wraps, waiting patiently for the bell to signal for class to be over. As time ticked on. I listened to Mr. Smith's lecture about the history of the civil war. He asked Christine a question about when the war started, which snapped her back to reality.
• The bell rung causing everyone to fall into a fit of laughter when Nick tries to get up and yells, “what the fuck?”
• “Why can I not get up?”
• “Who did this?”
• He kept yanking until a ripping sound echoed in the room!!!
• Gasps were heard all around and then Laughter exploded once again as Nick covered his backside with his backpack and took off out the classroom like he was on fire. Remembering a complete seat covered in blue jeans was priceless.
• A giggle bubbled from my chest. Christine was a mess and took justice in her own hands. Good times.
• How about the time Jonathan Michael thought he was every girl’s wet dream, but in all honestly he could not hold a candle to Steel. Let’s just say he was very itchy for a week straight, making all the ladies think he caught the case of the crabs. Ha. No one wanted to touch him after that.
• Christine was not someone to mess with. Itch powder was always so much fun for jocks that thought they were invincible, she would say.
• We always loved going swimming, so we would go to the rope swing meeting all our friends there. Many would fall short of the mark and hurt themselves, not making it to the water like Makenzie or even Mike, but the rest of us would make it in the water. Lots of times we would hit too hard, knocking the breath out of us, but we would just shake it off and do it again.
• There were times we would travel, further up the mountains to the blue waters, and jump the cliffs. Lots were scared, not knowing if there were rocks waiting for them on the bottom, but the one’s brave enough would just barrel right off the edge and smack into the depths of the still water.
• I loved the rush and every time I made it back to the surface and inhaled a gulp of fresh of air I was ready to do it all over again. Just for that moment, I was free, like no one could touch me.
• The rivers that joined with the hot springs were what the locals liked to call the healing waters. Town folks claimed that if you stayed in it long enough, all your aches and pains would heal. I would catch lots of family members in the town springs, including the locals and tourists. Let us just say my small town became a big hit.
• Who knows the truth?
• It was home… my home…
• A few tears fall, but why bother anymore to wipe them away?
• Remembering how we would sit on the porch watching the sunset, my parents and I would get lost discussing what the future might hold. We would laugh and admire the colors change from pinks to purples, yellows, and blues.
• The sky was such a masterpiece that all the painters’ canvases could not hold it. It was something how a sky changed to so many colors at a time, but it showed the true power and mystery of the world.
• The house we lived in was quite something. It was too damn big for our family, but hey I did not pay for it. I do not know the number of rooms we had and realizing it now, I never asked my parents what they did for a living.
• Shaking my head at that thought… stupid thinking of it now, but no one would have figured, hey you will get snatched thereafter because of something your father does. My Dad who is Tyson Mathias, was such a gentle giant, or he was to me. He had dark hair, blue eyes, and a well-trimmed beard. He was stocky, I would say... Dad was not a weak man by any means.
• He never lost his temper around us kids, but I overheard a rumor to never make him. Red flags flew because of unusual incidents. For instance, Dad comes home at different hours of the day and night. Different people come to visit all the time, the guns, training. When dad got injured, he taught us kids how to fight, to throw knives, and he also started teaching me how to shoot guns. He still would never tell me why.
• All he would tell us was that it was for my protection. How can I question my father when all he has ever done was treat me like a princess and with his cool demeanor, how was I supposed to question him in my life?
• My baby brother Jaden looks so much like Dad. It is a little scary, but I cannot help but think he is a cute little rascal. I am sure as time goes by, his features will change to a degree and I will one day tell them apart. Right now, though, it is canny. The only thing I have noticed is the small dimple on Jaden’s right cheek. He always hated when I would poke it because it would make him smile and it would draw his dimple out more.
• I absolutely love it and I miss him so much!!!
• Mom, who is Sisley Mathias, looks like my older twin. They trip when they find out she is my mother. Funny right. Not going to complain if I continue to be young for years to come. Only thing I got from dad is my temperament. His eye color is half of mine plus the being athletic. Now, the artistic side came from my mother. To be honest, in the eyes it is neat to have not only my dad’s eye color but also my mother’s.
• My elders state the uniqueness of my eyes will always be my greatest attribute. Like come on, really? Now, I guess I am supposed to nod and agree because they are my elders, right? I realize it is respectful and believe me I respect them, but I still call “bull shit,” I try not to argue with elders but sometimes I cannot help myself. Which gets me into trouble with my parents.
• They used to call me Stormie. It was aww here comes out little Stormie, but as I got older, it was not cute anymore. Dad did not take the hint or get that memo and continued to call me Stormie.
• Now I wish his voice would call out my name. Call me “Stormie” one more time. I would give anything to have him call me his nickname. Tears slip out of my eyes as I lose myself in my memories.
• My mother has long brown hair, with beautiful green eyes. She is 5’ 8”, with a very toned body. Mom has always took care of herself and makes sure to at least a 30-minute workout in her daily schedule. Everybody declared that when she walks into a room, she stepped into it with confidence and grace. Something that I did not inherited because I trip over my own feet often. I am still trying to learn to walk.
• Now, when it comes to their jobs were needing to be handled, Dad would leave here and there, but he was home every night for supper and on family outings. Unless he had a major meeting that he had to go out of town for, but those were rare and far in between.
• He was still quite vague, even when I would ask him what he did for a living. His response would be right now we are too young to worry about things of that caliber and once we are ready, he would include us in the family business.
• Dad said till then it was for our safety to not know everything about the business. Even with the strict security detail and taxing workload, he never missed a school event. I had many art shows I took part in and many times got invited to special events to have my art displayed in their galleries.
• My parents have stated that they were my number one fans, and it always meant a lot to me to have them in my corner, pushing me toward my dreams. Mom was a stay home wife/mom most days, but I would watch her draw every day. She would always call it doodling growing up…
• Giggling still to this day, I found it funny.
• Do not ask me why, but I simply do…
• I am aware this is childish, but when you are sitting alone in a basement, you ponder on the off to wall things like doodling.
• Sighing…
• Did she ever conjure a better word for that? As I got older, she designed clothes for clients and was a fashion designer. They named Mom as the top fashion designer of the year. She did not like to travel much due to us kids. So, she would design the most of her creations at home and conference to her team to work on her designs to bring her vision to life.
• Mom was fantastic at what she did and no matter what was going on around her, she never let it stop her from doing her job or achieving her goals. She stated that one day, she would show me all the tricks on how she became so successful and how to run the business. Blurriness takes over my vision.
• Not anymore, mom. It is a good thing you still have Jaden to oversee things for you and dad.
• You know, the more you reflect; you miss the trivial things. Mom and Dad tucking me in to bed after asking me how my day went. Mom having girl talk about teenage problems, or how about “THE TALK” the awkward I do not want to talk to the parent “talk”.
• I missed it all, missed wrestling with my brother and dad as we got older, missed all the annual family trips, missed the dreaded family photos that would have hung on what we used to call the “hall of fame walls”. I sense there were quite a few deaths that have occurred since I have been missing, friends that will not remember my face, schooling that I cannot make up, so GED, here I come.
• HA… I am believing I would actually get out of here. No, I will continue to miss graduation, and more holidays celebrations, all my brother’s things in his life, birthdays of everyone I once knew including my own, never get to meet “THE” guy, the guy that will be at the end of the aisle for me. I cannot wear that white gown, have my mom cry while staring at me in the mirror placing something old, new and blue in my hair. Have my father walk me down the aisle toward the man that I will spend the rest of my life with. I will not get that opportunity to build a family because Daniel has stolen that away from me. He destroyed that dream when he scarred not only my body, heart, mind, but soul. I am broken…. Empty and not able to be repaired…
• Tears fall.
• What is the point in life?
• What is the point in all of this if there is no way out? Sniffling… should I end this?
• Heart pounding as my head throbs. Tears burn my eyes as it reddens my cheeks. Questioning should I end this is becoming a Constance hiccup now, but no Storm, you are not a quitter; you are a fighter. I cannot give up. I will find a way out.
• GRRRRRRRR…. I miss them so much. So damn much it hurts.
• Do they miss me?
• Do they think of me?
• Or after all these years, have they given up and concluded I am DEAD!!!
• I close my eyes, trying to relax before they come back to torture me some more, but as I find a comfortable spot, or so I consider, until the devil himself appears.
• Why me, Lord?
• What have I done to deserve this?
• Head bowed until I hear the monster’s voice.