Trust Him?

Chapter 1 - Story

Rain. Rain was always my favourite thing. The splashing of rain against the cement floor and the glass windows was always somewhat soothing.

I would stand in the rain, face up, just breathing in the fresh and sweet smell of the rain. I would stand in it for hours and wouldn't get tired or complain about how wet my clothes are. Sometimes I would open my mouth and let it tickle my tongue.

Often, my mom or my older brother, Cyan, would drag me in the house and command me to take a shower immediately or else I would catch a cold.

When I was born, I was named Mae. As I grew up, I hated this name. My friends thought it was a pretty and delicate name. A whole lot of my friends wanted my name. I totally despised it.

On my 16th birthday, my mother asked me what present I wanted. It didn't take me long to figure it out. I wanted a name change.

My mom was always very nice to me. Always. So even though she didn't seem extremely pleased with what I wanted, she agreed. "If that would make you happy, then of course." Those were her exact words.

I wanted my name to be Rain. Cyan who was 18 at that time laughed. He thought it was a silly name. I thought it was perfect.

My mom filled out all the applications for a name change. In exactly 28 days, my name became Rain. Rain Miller.

We were all so happy at that time, but it didn't last long. My dad and mom had a huge argument over something and they started to not talk to each other. Meals were silent and were frequently eaten separately.

Then one day, my dad announced a divorce. I could hear my mom crying silently in the room that night.

After the divorce, my mom looked more and more tired each day. She never told us what the argument was about. Every time I brought the subject up, she just came up with some lame excuse and left.

Once I saw dad's letter to mom on her bedside table. Dad got married to another woman named Fiona.

2 months later, it was Cyan's birthday. I heard from his friends that he hated his name too, but not as much as me. He said it was such a girly name, but it was actually just an unisex name. Cy always complained about it to me.

But unlike me, he wanted something else for his birthday. He simply wanted a large cake. He told me that he wanted that, but because mom has been going through a lot lately, so he just told her that he didn't want anything.

The day before his birthday, mom came to me alone and asked if I knew if Cyan wanted anything. I told her her he wanted a cake.

On his birthday, mom told a lie and said that she was going to buy some lunch for us. She was actually going to go buy some cake. I didn't tell Cyan that.

About an hour later, someone knocked on the door. I smiled. This would be such a surprise for Cyan. And it was a very big surprise indeed.

When we opened the door, a police officer stepped in. "Did we do anything wrong?" I asked.

"We came here to announce bad news." He said in a steady voice.

Cy just stood there, paralyzed.

I cleared my throat. "What happened?"

"Your mom has passed away." He said it like he's a robot and he was just reading out orders that were programmed into him.

Cy finally spoke. "How?" He croaked out.

"Car crash." He kept his sentences as simple as possible.

I don't know how I am supposed to react. I wanted to cry until I shrivel like a raisin and die. I wanted to scream until my throat hurts and until my voice is gone. But all I did was stand a little straighter.

"What are we supposed to do now?" I asked, swallowing down all my emotions.

"Do you want to live with your father?" He answered a question with a question.

I cringed of the thought of my dad and Fiona embracing each other. I looked at Cy and I could tell he felt the same way.

"No." We said in unison.

"Then come with me." Cy and I exchanged glances.

We walked side by side and even though we weren't kids anymore, we held each other's hand. For comfort, I think.

"Ray." He soothed. Ray was the name he gave me; he didn't like the name Rain. "It's okay."

I said nothing.

I focused on my steps. One foot in front of another. 1,2. 1,2. 1,2. It was raining a little outside. Splash. Splash. Splash.

Tears finally found my eyes. I took a deep breath and held it in.

I found myself next to a large, old fashioned, silver truck. My mom's. The police officer gestured for me to go and see. A cake sat in the passenger seat, now squashed. There was something I didn't expect.

A photo album. I grabbed it and held it in my hand delicately. It looked brand new. My hands shook when I flipped open the book. On the first page there was a letter, handwritten by mom.

Dear Cyan,

Happy Birthday!!! Today is your first day in adulthood. Congratulations!

This is a photo album recording your childhood. We can look through it together.

Love, Mom

We can't. We can't look through it together. You're gone.

I took out the letter revealing a picture. It was a picture of Cy as a baby holding a spoon. His face was stained with carrot sauce and he had a huge smile plastered on his face.

The next picture was a boy around 2 years old with tousled brown hair. He was holding a water hose, but was visibly slumped under its weight. On the side of the picture was a baby wearing a ridiculously puffy dress. The baby was cuddled by a young woman and a man wrapped his arms around the woman.

That's Cy, mom, dad and I, I realized. The word dad was like a slap in my face.

But all that was left in our family was Cy and I. We will survive together.