Into the Rain

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You sit in suffocating darkness. An eerie silence has fallen, and you can hear your heart pounding. Is that from fear or excitement? Gulping, you tilt your head back, glancing at the tiny floating lights above you. They are abnormally bright, and you feel your eyes start to water before you are forced to look down once again.

Suddenly, as if by a ray of sun (though you know, of course, it must be your eyes adjusting to the dark or a stray moonbeam) you can see a figure standing out in front of you, on a raised patch of land. You swear you can hear music playing, but it must, you reason, simply be your imagination. It is too quiet to tell.

The figure turns to face you, revealing almond eyes and a flowing dress of deep blue silk. She doesn't notice you, but there is a knowing look on her pained, troubled face. You look more closely, noticing that her makeup is running and her raven hair is sticking to her face. Is she crying, or is that caused only by the rain you can hear gently pattering in the background?

She turns her eyes to the sky, and you see now the delicate tears pearling in the corner of her eyes, so fragile and perfectly placed they are almost unreal. After a few moments, she opens her mouth to speak. Are you sure that isn't music you hear playing?

"Are you listening? I hope you are."

Her voice is lilting, with some foreign accent that doesn't seem quite right, some unknown strain to match it with the scene around her. You can hear the plea in her voice, even though she has barely spoken.

"I . . . I need some help. Actually, I think that's been my first mistake. I've needed help for a while now."

Who is she talking to? Certainly not you, although it seems as if she is positioning herself just so you have a perfect view of what is happening, as if she is completely aware of your existence.

"I made a mistake. I think I hurt someone, someone very dear to me."

Is the rain picking up? Why is it you can't feel it?

"Please, answer me! Give me a sign! Anything! I'm lost, I can't get through this alone!"

The music, or whatever that is, seems to swell. Your pounding heart is out of control now, so loud everyone must be able to hear you. Still, the lone girl does not lose her focus, and she raises her folded hands to the heavens, as if to emphasize her point.

"Hear me out! I'm begging you!"

It's pouring now. She sinks to her knees, though her dress seems unaffected by what must certainly be mud on the ground below her.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! It was never my intention to hurt you! I just need your help! Give a sign, anything, just let me know everything will be okay!"

She is sobbing now, and buries her head in her delicate, pale white hands. You feel like comforting her, doing anything to end this, but you know it is not your place. All you can do is sit and watch.

"Let me know . . ."

Your heart is pounding.

"Everything . . . okay . . ."

Tears well in your eyes.

"Sorry . . . help . . . everything . . ."

She is babbling now, and you know you are about to break, when suddenly you are blinded by a too-bright flash of lightning, thunder rumbling in the background. The strike seems to cause a change in demeanor for the girl, as she takes her hands from her face, wiping away the tears and no longer crying.

"Fine. I get it. It's over."

She stands up, more rigid than before, projecting confidence that seems overly false and misplaced.

"I guess I'll just do this on my own, like always. I don't know why I expected you to help."

Now the girl is brushing off her dress, although there is nothing on it. Her firm hand movements make it seem as if she is brushing off a bad memory instead of stray dirt. She turns to leave, looking upwards one last time.

"I guess we're even now. I'll be back in a week or two; this shouldn't take long. Maybe when I've finished you'll have forgiven me. Maybe then we can start over."

She slowly starts to walk away, calling over her shoulder, "Until next time!" With that, she walked into the rain and didn't look back. That was, presumably, the last time anyone ever saw her.

Lights suddenly flash on, and for a second you cannot remember where you are, only what just happened in front of you. You feel something streaming down your face, and when you reach up to feel your cheeks, you are surprised to find tears there. You smile as you think, no matter how many times you witness this, it always gets to you, always manages to break you down. Your thoughts are interrupted as a dark, velvet curtain falls over the stage the actress previously performed on, and you glance around you at the other patrons who attended the show tonight, most of whom also have tears in their eyes.

You leave your seat and exit the theater, opening your umbrella as it starts to rain. You glance at the dark night sky, even more majestic than that of inside. With a smile on your face at the bittersweet performance, you return your glance to the street in front of you.

With that, you walk into the rain and don't look back. Until next time, when the doors to the theater reopen and you once again can watch the tragic story of the young girl, so much like your own.

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