Looks Like Rain (On Hold Until Further Notice)

Prologue

trauma (noun): a deeply distressing or disturbing experience

13 years ago

"Good morning, sunshine!"

Dan opened his eyes to see his mother sitting on the side of his bed, a big, warm smile plastering her face. He let out a yawn and smiled back as his mum gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"You know what day it is, right?" his mother asked, chuckling.

The boy nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with anticipation. Today was his fifth birthday.

"Come on, daddy is already waiting downstairs."

Dan quickly jumped out of the bed and ran down the stairs into the kitchen, where his father was sitting at the big wooden table, smiling at the sight of his son standing in the doorway in his pyjamas. On the table, there was a delicious-looking chocolate cake with Smarties, five candles on top. Dan's mum must have gotten up very early to bake it.

"Happy birthday, Daniel," his father said softly, pulling the little boy in for a hug, "you're almost grown up now."

"Thanks, Dad," Dan grinned.

"Well, I think there's some time left until then," his mother laughed and stroked her son's dark brown hair that was all messy from just getting up.

Later, Dan always remembered that birthday as the happiest day of his life. His mum and dad took him to the zoo and after that, they all went to the cinema to watch The Lion King, Dan's favourite movie. In the evening, his mum cooked his favourite food while he played football in the garden with his dad.

Soon after they had eaten dinner, the boy began to feel very tired. His father noticed, picking Dan up in his strong arms.

"Time to go upstairs, huh, champ?" He smiled softly as his son curled up against his chest and carried him into his bedroom.

After quickly brushing his teeth and changing into his pyjamas, Dan crawled into bed, pulling up his Winnie the Pooh covers and snuggling into his mother, who was already seated at the bedside with a book in her hand, ready to read her son a story.

When she had finished, Dan was already half asleep, but as his mum stood up to walk out of the room, he reached for her hand and she turned around, raising an eyebrow.

"What is it, dear?" she asked, sounding a little worried.

"Today was really fun," the little boy answered, "thank you."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, sweetheart."

"I love you very much, Mummy."

"I love you too, Daniel," she replied, gently placing a kiss on his forehead, "you should sleep now, it's been a long day and it's pretty late. Good night, sleep well, darling."

"Good night, Mum."

She left the room, turned off the light and shut the door quietly behind her. Dan hugged the plush dog that his mother had gotten him for his birthday, pressing it tightly against his body, and soon fell into a deep slumber.

---

The next morning, Dan was woken up by the sound of kitchen utensils clattering downstairs. He got up, rubbing his eyes, and sleepily made his way to the kitchen, where his mum stood in front of the stove and made pancakes. His dad was already seated at the table with a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

"Good morning, champ. Did you have a nice dream?" he asked.

"I can't really remember, Dad. But I think it was something with lions."

The man chuckled and returned to reading the newspaper. Dan always admired that his dad read so much. He knew more books than Dan knew numbers, and he was incredibly proud to have such a smart father.

"Sweetheart, why don't you go upstairs and get ready?" Dan's mother asked after their breakfast was finished, while gathering the plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

The boy had almost forgotten that they were going to take a trip to the shopping centre to buy some new clothes, since Dan was going to start school the next week. Needless to say, he was beyond excited. He had always been a very intelligent child, far ahead of the other kids his age. He was eager to learn as much as he could, literally soaking up every piece of information about subjects he was interested in like a sponge. Dan never bragged about it though, never called somebody out if they didn't know something, even if he did. He was always friendly and polite towards other people.

He brushed his teeth and threw on a green jumper and a pair of jeans. When he came back down, his mum was already waiting for him in the hallway.

Even years later, whenever Dan thought of his mother, the image of her standing there always came to his mind. She was beautiful, only in her late twenties, since the couple had their child when they were quite young. She had dark brown hair, a bit lighter than her son's, that fell over her shoulders in long waves. Her big, soft eyes were a dark shade of blue, like the bottom of a deep ocean, and were framed by long, black eyelashes. The woman's face always had a gentle expression, her cheeks easily flushing red when she laughed, which happened quite often. She had a small, well-defined nose and her lips were full, always having a smile on them.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?"

Dan nodded, shouted a goodbye to his dad and followed his mother out the door, towards the silver car that was parked in front of the house. He climbed into the backseat, where his booster seat was.

It was about a half an hour drive to the shopping centre. After twenty minutes, Dan's mother stopped the car at a traffic light.

"Are we there yet?" the boy asked impatiently, banging his feet against the front seat.

"Soon, sweetheart. Ten minutes and we should be there."

The light turned green and the woman put her foot on the gas. She turned her head, looking at her son fondly. She couldn't believe that her little boy would be starting school soon, she remembered the day he was born like it was yesterday.

"MUM, WATCH OUT!" Dan screamed.

It hadn't been more than three seconds that Dan's mother had had her eyes off the street, however, those short three seconds were catastrophic. A truck that seemed to have come out of nowhere suddenly rushed towards them. The woman jerked the wheel violently in an attempt to get out of the way. But she failed. Dan heard a loud crash and the sound of shattering glass. Then everything went black.