The wind had been howling outside his bedroom window, in a way similar to a wild animal, a predator who was on the loose stalking and waiting for its moment. The window chimes he loved traitorous and not helping to calm his nerves as they clanged hard against the window pane with the relentless wind, playing a harsh, unforgiving tune.

A tune which consisted of the wind chimes, wind and the tree branches which scratched at the windows reminiscent of gnarled fingers reaching out to grab him. Consume him. The melody of nightmares.

He was afraid, his knuckles white as they gripped onto his blanket for dear life, his eyes wide and b with tears. A strangled whimper left his lips, it was soft, gentle... futile against the raging storm. He cried out desperately for his parents despite the fact he knew they wouldn't come, they would never answer. They simply weren't there... and even if they were he wouldn't be heard. He was like a small kitten caught in between the feet of a marching band.

If they did hear, would they even care anyway? They always left him alone in a Victorian styled house which had cold which seeped through one's bones, empty aside from spiders and such emptiness which left echoes. Which just made thunder storms worst as the thunder was echoed around the house. They left for parties, other such social gatherings and visits mostly just for the sake of going.

When he was younger it hadn't been as bad as his parents employed a nanny to look after him but now he was double-digits it was deemed unnecessary to waste money on nannies as he could always look after himself. He just wasn't worth the money, and the mere thought of taking him to the events was preposterous.

He was an embarrassment. Fragile, slender with milky-white skin, he was like a girl not the son they had desired. No, they had desired a dashing son strong and fit after the father. They pretended the one they did have merely didn’t exist.

Sometimes he too pretended he didn’t exist as well. He had tried it then curling into a tight ball, blanket drawn to his chest. An attempt at getting even smaller than he was, if he got smaller enough maybe he would vanish.

If he wasn’t here the weather wouldn’t scare him, the gnarled branches wouldn’t be scratching at the window to grab him. He wouldn’t be an embarrassment or a dark secret that his parents attempted to bury. A shame.

A crash of thunder made him jump and scramble under the table as he stared out the window, eyes nearly bursting from their sockets and tears like diamonds trickling down his pale, stricken face. Why wasn’t his parents’ home yet?

He needed them with their loud drunken slurs which often drowned the sound of storms, the shouts and giggles. Where were they? They were normally back by then, more often than not intoxicated.

He screamed in pure terror as the sound of a thud against the front door. Someone was breaking in.

Years on, he was far more used to being alone. Everyone who he had ever loved had left him after all leaving him with no one.

His last remaining family in Korea, his parents had left when he was just ten. They had died that stormy night, the thud being that of people who had news of their deaths... but before they had died he was still left alone by them. He could remember the night they died well, in fact it often reoccurred in nightmares when storms crashed outside his window.

His first love had used and left.

He was used to being alone by now…