On the fifty-second day, the weather changed suddenly (Part Two)

This nearly jolted my heart right out of my chest.

To be honest, my first reaction was that the roof had collapsed.

I tried not to let myself worry about the raging wind and torrential rain outside, attempting instead to numb myself with delicious food. But the truth is, my heart was uneasy and anxious all along! The sound snapped me out of my selective escapism and forced me to face reality.

I looked up; the roof was intact, but that did nothing to ease the terror inside me.

The wind was simply too fierce. I didn't dare step outside to check. The gale, mixed with rain, was pouring relentlessly through the cracks under the door.

Thankfully, I'd prepared for rain when I built this place. Even though I was on the lower level now, the floor here was higher than the ground outside. I'd fashioned a sloped entryway specifically to prevent rainwater from flooding inside.

A rumbling sound from the roof signaled something rolling down—the same thing that had rattled the roof earlier. I didn't want to know what it was; I guessed it was probably a branch.

Things kept smashing against the roof and walls, propelled by the wind. The pounding, the water, the gusts—every sound struck my heart.

Yes, I was extremely nervous—so nervous I could barely breathe.

Nature inspires my deepest awe. It cannot be conquered, it changes in a heartbeat, and I am terrified that my little hut might crumble to dust under the violence of the storm.

But I am powerless now. All I can do is soothe my nearly shattered sanity with encouraging words and comforting thoughts.

Another dull thud scraped across the side wall, ending in a muffled “puff” before falling silent.

I thought it must be the small tree I'd wedged against the wall for support, now toppled by the gale.

I'd secured it so tightly against the wall, yet now it had fallen; I could only imagine how terrifying the wind outside was.

The more this happened, the more anxious I became. I could no longer sit still, pacing back and forth, standing.

“What should I do!”

“I’m still so worried!”

...

Though I’d reinforced the treehouse today and knew it should withstand the current winds—at least, I hadn’t felt the structure shake—I needed to find a way to calm myself.

The rain intensified, and my anxiety became impossible to suppress. I peered outside through the crack under the door.

The rain kept splashing through the gap, making it difficult to see clearly.

Still, I caught glimpses: the gale had bent a nearby coconut tree to a seventy-five-degree angle. The coconuts swung like fans, fluttering wildly up and down. The sky was a blur of white, leaves flying everywhere.

Suddenly, a dazzling flash of lightning slashed across the sky, the arc writhing like a serpent. Staring up, my eyes were blinded by the brilliance, and before I could recover—

A deafening thunderclap crashed into my ears, chilling me to the bone—I was thoroughly startled...

Before I could gather myself, Little Black howled and rushed over, rearing up and leaping into my arms, whimpering as he buried his head against my chest...

“Don’t be afraid, it’s all right, Little Black. We’re safe, don’t worry.” Though my own heart was still trembling, I tried to comfort him with gentle words, stroking his back to calm his terror.

Eventually, Little Black settled down, withdrawing his forepaws from my chest and standing again. I crouched to pet his head, and his panic finally subsided, leaving him lying at my feet.

But my own fear did not abate. I continued to watch the outside intently.

I could soothe Little Black, help him recover, but I couldn’t persuade myself—not enough to escape the grip of dread.

I couldn’t do it. I truly was afraid. I had once been just another person struggling to survive in the city, immersed in steel and concrete, never before confronted by the raw power of nature. My terror grew boundlessly...

Outside, the storm grew even more violent. Lightning slithered ceaselessly across the sky, thunder pounding like drums, every crash hammering my heart and making it twitch in time with the roar.

Now, I couldn’t see anything outside—the world was a curtain of white. In my heart, I kept silently wishing for this dreadful storm to end.

But I was disappointed!

The rain had lasted half the day. Outside was pitch-black; except for the brief flashes of lightning, I could barely make out the dense sheets of rain—nothing else.

“Just rest. Let the storm rage; you’ve reinforced the treehouse, you know how sturdy it is. If it can’t withstand a storm like this, what good is it?” Positive thoughts tried to coax me into relaxing.

“But what if the treehouse collapses while you sleep? Could you escape in time? Can you imagine the misery of being trapped beneath these saplings?” This idea was much more convincing to me at the moment.

“You’re watching now, but is it any use? Can you stop the rain just by looking? Will the wind cease? If this storm lasts for days, do you plan to just keep watching?” Another thought made me hesitate.

“If the treehouse collapses and you survive, but Little Black is hurt, struck and killed by a falling tree because of your neglect! Can you bear it?”

...

“Ahhh!” I clutched my head and shouted, once again overwhelmed by the sense that my mind was about to explode from the barrage of conflicting thoughts.

Every second—no, less than that—every fraction of a second, a new thought would appear, always in opposition, locked in battle for supremacy. Only the victor would direct my actions.

Now the fight was at its fiercest, the thoughts tangled and tore at each other, my mind the battleground...

I had tried countless times to make them stop, tried many methods, but I lost every time!

I couldn’t stop, and so I couldn’t choose...

It must be midnight by now. The storm had shown no sign of relenting. I was tired, sleepy, hungry, and thirsty, yet anxiety kept me from eating or sleeping—this contradictory state was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

The hut began to shake violently again. I could clearly hear the beams at the junction with the main tree creaking and grinding. I understood—the tree was swaying more intensely, which meant the wind had grown even stronger!

“Creak, creak,” the sound grew more frequent. I could actually feel the hut rocking with the tree.

Now, it felt less like a treehouse and more like a ship!

...

“Snap.”

I jumped in alarm!

...