text: Most of Rina’s friends like thunderstorms. They liked the feeling of being inside, curled up in a blanket with a mug full of hot cocoa, hearing the noises from outside from the comfort of their home. Rina never understood them. They always curled up under something heavy, careful not to touch anything, and shut their eyes tight until the thunders stopped. It was not that Rina was afraid of the thunders themselves. They were simply afraid of what it might do to them. It wasn’t a particularly rational fear and they knew it, bugging themselves every winter to just get over it already and get out from under the table, but they just couldn’t help it. Seeing dark skies and the first of many lightnings sent shivers down their spine in a frightening, heartstopping way. Rina knew that inside the thunders couldn’t hurt them, that no lightning would be able to reach them through the closed windows and stone walls, but the thought itself was enough to shock them in fear. Rina simply did not want to be fried. When they were young, a kid at school offhandedly told Rina not to get close to any electricity while barefoot or wet, because they could be electrified. Rina, being only ten and generally a very careful child, did exactly that. Until that point there really wasn’t any problem; they continued on with their daily chores and avoided electricity unless they were wearing shoes. The problem started in one particular science class when Rina was 13, and the teacher explained about a strange natural phenomenon she found interesting. The teacher, a middle-aged woman with thick curls and curious eyes, told the class with excitement about thunderstorms. She explained how it worked, how lightning is just pure electricity, how unexpected they are, how in a different universe they could use that energy to power cities and avoid coals and fuel. Rina, though interested, couldn’t stop thinking about the electricity part. Does that mean that lightning is dangerous to be around? When they left class that day, Rina heard some girls talking excitedly about lightning and thunderstorms. They were chatting, mostly eighth grade nonsense, but one statement made Rina stop in their place and listen. One of the girls said, barely noticing her words, “I heard of a man who got hit by lightning and was completely fried. They never found his body because he looked like food to stray dogs.” The other girls laughed and dismissed the statement, claiming that “really, Leah, you love overreacting more than I thought” and “oooh, creepy, got any other campfire scary stories to tell?”, but Rina couldn’t get the mental image out of their mind. It wasn’t disgust that they felt, because they have dealt with disgust before. No, it was something else, more blinding, that made them feel like their bones were dipped in ice-cold water. Rina wasn’t used to being afraid - they were usually able to dodge scary experiences by simply not showing up to parties or reading a book at lunch break - so the knowledge that something could make them so terrified was even worse than they thought it might be. It’s been years since then, but Rina hadn’t forgotten. How could they? How could they get the mental image of a man being toasted by pure electricity, left for stray dogs to feast on out of their mind? How could they go on with their life knowing that though unlikely, this might happen? That made Rina more and more scared with every passing winter. They started with turning on the TV volume as high as they could without annoying the neighbours, hoping the loud sounds from inside could block the loud reminders of the possibly-real man they thought about all the time. When that stopped working, Rina tried to just go to sleep, but that only resulted in nightmares and a rush to put on some shoes. After that, Rina told themselves to just stop worrying about this. To just accept the fear, and that it’s irrational, and that they’re always going to be fine. Judging by the way they’re shaking under the dining room table every time a thunder roams outside of their window, that method doesn’t work either. It might take a while for them to figure out a new way to deal with (or ignore) their growing phobia, but Rina couldn’t think about this right now. All they could do is pray to survive tonight’s thunderstorm.