To Love the Rain

Chapter Six

                When I was a kid, I would have nightmares about death.

I'd lie awake for hours on end, trying my best to not think about it. I'd toss, and I'd turn, but no matter what I tried, I would always default back to the horrible realization that someday, I wouldn't exist anymore. That horrible inevitability, whether it be in 80 days, or 80 years, scared the living daylights out of me; death would come for all of us.

Just like that.

Gone.

I wouldn't be able to think, or move, or even realize I'd even existed in the first place.

No more life.

I had cried the first time, cold sweat pouring down my back in waves. I curled into a little ball, and sobbed uncontrollably under the blankets. My mom had rushed inside my room, worry etched into her face like cracks in concrete.

"Mommy," I had blubbered nonsensically, tears sinking into the pants of my pajama set.

"Mommy, I don't wanna die!"

That was the first time I had been introduced to God. She told me about Him, and His Holy City in the clouds. If I was really, really good, she had said, holding me with a gentle smile, I'd get to go there when I die. Being only nine years old, I believed her instantly.

"Will you be with me?" I had asked in a small voice. Hopefully, fearfully.

"Always, Darling. Momma's got you." She kissed my cheek. "Now get some rest. You're seeing Dr. Monroe tomorrow, aren't you excited?"

She tickled my belly playfully, and I giggled.

"Love you, Mommy."

"Love you too, Honey."

I don't know why I remember that so vividly, but it's been etched into the deepest levels of my mind like a brand. It was the first time I encountered the concept of death head on, and defeated it. However, as I grew older, biology classes and the cruelty of middle schoolers made me realize that God wasn't as corporeal as my mom had made him out to be.

What if there wasn't a God?

What if we were just a collection of space dust, glued together by luck and evolution?

What if- what if we were destined to die?

I mean, death was a scary concept. Essentially, you would cease to exist. Every memory, whether it'd be painful, happy, or sad, would be wiped off the face of the Earth like it never happened.

Like your life never happened.

Over time, I had learned to avoid the thought of death as much as possible, filing it under a future-me's problem. If I didn't think about it, I could avoid it. But even then, I still woke up sometimes with cold sweat drenching the back of my shirt, clutching my heart and desperately seeking a confirmation that I was still here, alive and breathing. For the most part though, I managed to forget about it in normal, everyday life.

Unfortunately, the nightmares were something I couldn't run away from, no matter how hard I tried.

And today, they finally caught up.

I woke up to the sound of somebody screaming my name.

"Merci! Baby please!"