In the Storm

No one escapes fate without sacrifice, but is the price more than Carly is willing to pay?"Every now and again, a story comes along that shakes up your world. Something that you didn't expect, or see coming. A book like this is why I read YA!..." -- Trisha Wolfe, Young Adult Author, YA Bound Book Blog

Abandoned by the world around her, Carly believes she is fated to a life of torment at the hands of her stepfather and is desperate for an escape. When she can bear the abuse no longer and gives in to a thunderous rage, she suddenly finds herself in an unfamiliar, yet beautiful, storm world. This limbo between dimensions appears to be her private sanctuary, but it may just be her purgatory.

In The Storm is a unique, enthralling, and heart-breaking young adult contemporary science fiction fantasy from Karen Metcalf.

Most of this town -- my tomb -- consists of fields and woods and is deathly quiet. I pray for thunderstorms; they are my only escape. I get lost in them, and, for those precious minutes, I am anywhere but here. And the thunder disguises my crying.

I sit at my open bedroom window, watching the curtain flutter, and enjoy the rain. I smell the recently mowed grass and the steam from the asphalt as it cools. The pine trees are swaying, and I like the quiet rustle of their needles. They are the words of comfort I get nowhere else. The breeze toys with my hair, brushing it from my shoulders. It is an arm consoling me that belongs to no one. When my own storm of tears is over and the thunder ceases, they will disappear again but will tell no one my secrets.

The lightning brightens the entire world for seconds at a time. It is a purple world and more beautiful than the real one. The leaves are a more vibrant green than any daylight has ever exposed. It is a glimpse of an alternate dimension, one in which I wish I lived. Sometimes the flashes freeze the raindrops mid-air and time stops. I wish it would stop forever, allowing me to stay in this other world. Unfortunately, the storm will pass in another half an hour, and I will be left alone again. Luckily, it is the season for them; I will have this escape often in the coming months. This is the only bearable part of the year.

My brother Mitch is curled up on my bed, thumb pulling at the corner of his mouth as it has fallen away as he sleeps. He is eleven years younger than me, only five years old. His eyelids flutter with the thunder. I watch his cowlick bobble in the breeze. As his sister, I am his only source of comfort, just as these storms are mine. These opportunities, however, allow me to bring him with me to this alternate world, and, for that, I am grateful.