The roaring sound jerks you awake.
You blink your eyes open, gasping, back straight as an arrow and muscles pulled taut as you struggle to remember where you are. Outside, the booming sound goes on, so loud and so intense you can almost feel the bed shaking with the vibrations. Still, you can hear your own galloping heartbeat over the sound. It seems never-ending, until — quick as it came— it’s gone. Silence dawns, complete and utter silence, and for a heartbeat there you could even hear a hairpin drop. It’s unnatural, and eerie. You wait, breath caught in your throat, ears prickled to catch what happens next. Your heart almost stops. You still don’t know where you are. You’re not sure you want to find out. And then, after what feels like an eternity, silence is broken: replaced with the incessant sound of the droplets of water hitting the window with intent, almost as if their purpose was to break the glass to enter inside.