Crack.
His head swung back toward me. Eyes staring. Locking with mine.
“DADDY! STOP!”
Crack.
He regarded me, face dripping with rain. Connection sizzled between us.
Mentally, I pleaded with him to not do this. He would feel my emotions. I knew he would.
His chest rose and fell.
No. Stay.I begged him.I need you. Don’t leave me.
I threw every last ounce of my adoration and love for him into my thoughts. I let it flood me.
I love you, Daddy. Come back inside.
He paused, a breath raising his chest. He nodded, as if acknowledging my message.
Rain pounded between us, drifting sheets of water in the driving wind.
Babbo brushed his soaked hair out of his eyes, still drilling me with his gaze.
And then . . .
. . . he shook his head.
Rejecting me.
“DADDY! NO!”
Another shake of his head.
Crack.
He turned away from me and swung to the side, lifting a tall, metal pole up, reaching skyward. He looked toward the roiling clouds, both hands firmly on the metal pole.
My anguished screams had to have carried to him. The horror of my emotions.
He remained firm, face tilted upward.
CRAAAAACK!
A jagged bolt of lightning fractured the atmosphere, pulsing, flaring.
It connected with the metal rod.
The world exploded.
The concussion from the thunder tossed me to the ground. Windows shattered. Pebbles pelted my skin. My ears throbbed. My chest felt heavy. Gasping for air, I struggled to breathe for several moments.
Finally, I managed to push my wet hair out of my eyes and sat up. I wiped water from my face, struggling to see.
“Babbo!” I called, voice hoarse.
No answer.
