The Gray Dancer

12. YELLOW LIGHTS

HANNA HELD IN A DEEP BREATH, WAITING FOR THE INCOMING CRASH. She knew her clock had run out as her legs turned to jelly, unable to move. She could only stare at the yellow, allowing it to be the last thing she ever saw.

But, before the yellow could crash into her, a hand grabbed her wrist, yanking her tiny frame away from the incoming collision.

"Hanna!" He held her in his firm grip, "Are you fucking crazy?"

Hanna's eyes snapped open, confident that the bright yellow lights had crashed into her, but the world around her looked as if it always did. The world moved on as it always did. Cars dashed through the streets under the sweltering rain as they usually would. Hanna wouldn't reckon that it rained in heaven too. She expected heaven to be a fluffy cloud with dozens of people ready to love her broken heart.

Was she alive, then?

"You could have died." He asked, almost snapping at her, "Do you realize that?"

All it took was his menacing tone and the intense glare in his eyes for Hanna's eyes to well. Her lips began to tremble, trying to blink back the tears pouring into her eyes. She gulped hard. Hanna couldn't meet his stare as her eyes started to well with tears she'd never let free—at least not in front of someone else.

For some reason, Hanna didn't quite mind dying. The thought of dying didn't settle uneasily like her other ones. In a way, it felt calming. Everything would be all better again if she wasn't here. It didn't seem like anyone wanted her to exist either. Not even her family would care if she disappeared. Maybe the world would be a better place without Hanna? Was it weak of her to think that?

As she thought longer, the sack of tears within her chest, she had tried so desperately to hold back, escaped. They erupted almost like a flowing volcano, heading out in bursts. No matter what she did, she couldn't stop bawling. She hated being so weak and being so needy.

"Derrick..." She hitched between her sobs.

Derrick's expression softened at once. Before he knew it, his grasp around her weakened. The glare in his eyes vanished as he stared at Hanna, unable to say or do anything. A light sigh left him, knowing that he had taken it too far, hurting Hanna in the process. Derrick saw the sheer fear and guilt held behind her cries, and he noticed the sheer amount of years she held back the same tears she shed today.

"Oh, Hanna." Derrick whispered, "Don't cry."

Hanna cried harder at his words, but Derrick couldn't tell if it was the rain or her tears. He only saw Hanna's flushed face, hearing her hiccups mix in with the taps of the showers.

Derrick didn't know how to comfort her—how to make her feel better. He froze as she cried helplessly. He almost wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be alright.

Derrick could only purse his lips, nonchalant to the pouring rain.

"It's okay now. Take a deep breath." He tried his best to ease her, his voice as soft as the rain, "You're still here, Hanna. Nothing happened."

He bobbed his head slowly to reassure the girl in front of him, allowing the lightest, wispy smile to color over her lips as he stared at her.

Hanna recollected herself, taking haggard breaths after each sob. She tried her best to regain her breath, sniffling after every puff. The pain didn't leave yet, her heart stabbing her more than a million cuts, but Hanna did her best to pull herself together.

She couldn't deny her weakness.

Hanna cried in front of someone else. She shed her tears, ones that she held back for a long time, ones that shouldn't have escaped. Hanna couldn't stop her thoughts, no matter how hard she tried. She endured the shrieks again, pressing her lips together as she heard the screams echoing within her. Hanna almost wanted to cry again, to free herself again.