Flood - Creative Writing

Another night of that bloody rain again. God I hate winter. Lying in my bed, the pound of each raindrop as it is thrown from the heavens onto my roof rings in my ears. The gusts of wind freeze the hairs on my neck straight. Snuggling down into my bed, I feel a warm, almost happy sensation as my blankets form a protective cocoon around me, saving me from the terrible monster brewing outside my window.
My eyelids attempt to glue themselves shut as I feel relaxation consume my sore old body. It all seems so majestic now. The pounding from the torrents of water become an echo to the beat of my heart as I fall into a deep and peaceful slumber.
Dreams begin to fool my mind’s sense of reality, bringing him back to life in my mind’s fantasies. I’m sitting on the porch, the oh so familiar feeling of my hand in his. Looking across at him we stare into each other’s eyes. Although our bodies have withered with age, our love didn’t. The sparkle in his eyes when he looked at me sent a bubbly sensation running through my body, making me feel young again. He was so vividly there, yet I knew he wasn’t/ I didn’t care, all I knew is that it’s the closest I’ll ever be to him again. Being with him is my only time of true happiness, even if it’s not real.
My dreams were rudely interrupted as my vision of him fades into an unwanted reality. The storm became overpowering as it unleashed its monstrous wrath upon what I thought was a fortress of a home. The roar of the storm smothers the desperate thumping of my neighbour at the door. His usual rhythmic knock had lost its sweet melody, now replaced with a booming urgency. Shooting upright, my eyes still adjusting from the fantasy world in my dreams. Reality soon follows, punishing me with what I find. It was as if my soul was being ripped from my body, numb with the disbelief of the truth before me as floodwaters sweep through my room.
Leaping from bed I sprint for the door, ripping it open to find John fighting the fierce wind as he