At the beginning, only tiny beads of rain fell onto our bare shoulders as we danced slowly in the school courtyard. You and I had both agreed that the music in the hall was too loud, so we enjoyed the prom from a distance.

You pressed me closer as the beads turned to drops, and I clung to your drenched dress shirt. I couldn’t stop myself from grinning, and we continued to dance, undisturbed by the bowls of punch and the shallow small talk our classmates were willing to provide.

Valuing the silence, we ignored the shaking and rustling trees and the leaves scattered around our feet. We refused to return inside, even when each raindrop felt like a stab, when the wind no longer playfully toyed with my hair, but slapped it around despite its being water-logged.

“Maybe I should get my coat,” you suggested.

I nodded, and watched you walk away. I saw nothing more, as a strike of brilliant white light flashed before me.

Lightning strikes are painless. Yet my heart broke into glass shards at the thought of you.