The sky turns dark on a peacefully night. The wind picks up spreading fright. Rain pounds hard upon the ground. Yet in his bed the child makes no sound. Some people think he is slow in the head. Often his parents fear he is dead. But he is no different from you or me. Maybe it is all the things he can't see. Nature is giving this one child a warning he can't here. He sleeps on peacefully not knowing that there is something to fear. A limb breaks the window beside his bed. He awakes with rain flowing upon his head. In the dark he gropes for a knob he can't see. He leaves the room as the wind blows over a tree. And smashes his room into the ground. His parents are awoken by the horrific sound. They find him snuggled in their bed. His savior still dripping from his head. By BJ Baker