Licentious
Child
li•cen•tious
adjective
1.sexually unrestrained; lascivious; libertine; lewd.
2.unrestrained by law or general morality; lawless; immoral.
3.going beyond customary or proper bounds or limits; disregarding rules.
"Be careful when you fight the monsters, lest you become one."
-Friedrich Nietzsche
I've never liked the summer; it's too hot, too humid, and the storms drive everyone mad. Have you ever stood outside right before a thunderstorm, one of those mammoth storms, when it's more akin to standing on the eve of a maelstrom rather than waiting for the rain to fall? The electricity, the tension, the restless energy just before the impending onslaught, it permeates through everything and everyone, bringing out the wild spirit of a caged animal, the heat and the clouds suffocating you like a blanket, making you want to just claw your way out.
And then comes the rain.
It's almost a tangible release, something that you can physically feel yourself let go of. The lightning, the thunder, the wind, and the rain- with them comes another sort of energy, a sense of raw power that's like letting the caged animal out. I've always hated that trapped feeling that comes right before the storm, but the release that the rain brought was one of my few summer pleasures. I would always stand outside under the churning sky, waiting, and when the clouds finally gave way and let their wet burden fall to the ground, I would stay there for a few long moments, relishing in the cool relief. If I could have, I would stand through the whole storm, but I knew my mother would never have let me, for fear of me catching a cold.
Sometimes, Mama could be just as suffocating as the air before a storm. It felt good to get out every once in a while, freeing myself from her overprotective grasp. She had to let me, as the doctor had told us that I needed more fresh air, so it was a rather invigorating relief to be able to walk amongst nature with no company but the wildlife. Our country home, located just north of Brighton, was quite secluded. Although you'd hit town if you walked south for a mile or so, the rest of the surrounding area was blanketed with a thick forest and beyond it, to the west, was the sea.
I was on my way back home from the beach one day in June when I felt it happen, when I felt the forest tighten, that pre-storm tension seeping in, and I knew that I wasn't going to make it back before the storm hit. As much as I liked thunderstorms, by no means did I want to endure one while stuck in the woods.
I picked up my pace, eventually breaking into a run as the first drops of rain began to fall. I even hitched up my skirts in a very un-ladylike fashion in my haste to return home without tripping over myself and falling on my face. As I continued my mad dash, the rain began to come harder, but by some wondrous chance of fate, the storm hadn't yet begun in earnest. Miraculously, it held off until I reached the long stretch of meadow leading from the forest to the house; it was as I ran across that grassy field that I felt the release. The sky broke the last few bonds it had holding it back, and with a deafening crash of thunder, the hard torrent of rain was set free.
Although it had been in the late afternoon, the dark thunder clouds had taken over the heavens, coloring the sky black and pitching the world around me into darkness. The only light I had to see by came from the lightning that flashed through the sky every few minutes and the
candles placed in the windows of my house ahead, but they proved to be little help, distorted as they were by the pounding rain.
Suddenly, the meadow lit up, the light of the full moon revealed as some of the clouds were blown away by the vicious wind. What I saw, silhouetted against the charcoal sky, terrified me- it was a wolf; a large, monstrous, hunkering thing; and it was looking right at me.
I felt a scream tear out of me as I mentally demanded my frozen feet to run. I just stood there, staring right back at the beast, too frightened to make myself move. A long moment later, my lower limbs seemed to finally get the message and they tore off, running as quickly as they could carry me.
I made the mistake of turning around to see if the creature had followed me- it had, and it was able to run a lot faster than myself. It was gaining on me quickly, but fortunately, I was almost to the house. Just as I was about to utter a prayer of thanks, the kitchen door looming before me, I felt my feet slip out from under me. Horrified, I realized that I had forgotten to pick my skirts back up as I ran, my terror causing me to act foolishly.
It was with that last frantic thought that the monstrous wolf was upon me. With a howl that was loud enough to be heard even over the thunder and rain, it reared back on its hind legs and then came down. Instinctively, I brought my arms up to shield my face, but it was in my stomach that I felt a sharp, searing pain. I looked down and saw my blood, red and wet, spreading darkly over my clothes in an ink-like stain, and onto the ground where it was almost immediately washed away by the rain. It wasnt what I saw, though, that made me faint. It was when the metallic smell reached my nose that my eyes rolled back and I collapsed, leaving myself at the mercy of the wolf.
