To Love the Rain

Chapter Eleven

To say my friendship with Melody was smooth would be a total and utter lie.

Gosh!

The girl was abrasive, and rubbed me all the wrong with ways. She was mean and, always called me stupid nicknames and never, ever addressed me by my real name no matter how many times I've reminded her of it. She was gloomy, and dark, and making conversation somedays were like wrestling with wild bears, or talking with brick walls. But- well, I mean- there had to be something about her, right?

Because, why else did I keep coming back?

The first-time meeting back at the church had been really, really awkward.

"So, how do I contact you?"

Melody had shrugged.

"Um," I paused, trying to think of an idea as the sun went down.

"Can I have your phone number?"

"I don't have one." She griped.

"What?"

"I said," there was that glare again. "I don't have one."

"Do you have, like, email? MySpace? An owl?"

"Just meet here every single Sunday, Dumbass."

I winced at her tone, and her constant profanity.

"My name's Merci," I had cut her off once before she could delve into some more colorful choices of wording inside God's House. "You can call me Merce if you want."

"No thanks." She replied, short and simple.

"Oh."

I didn't know what to say to that.

We had promised to meet every single Sunday night, and she would help me clean for a few hours while I listened to her sing, and we'd pretty much just hang out. It seemed so ordinary, so normal that sometimes I forget that I'm even doing it to save my own life. I convinced myself that God was still watching me, and that He would reward my faithfulness with a long life, and take me away from an impending doom that was drawing much too close even though so far, there had been no signs of anything. But I had faith- or at least, I tried my best to convince myself that I did. So, every single Sunday, under the pretense of darkness, I would sneak out, trying as hard as I can to avoid my mom (I still haven't talked to her since that fateful day- I've only slept and eaten in the house whenever she wasn't there).

I guess, in an odd way, I kind of looked forwards to these little outings with Melody.

They were an escape from the constant reminders of the dregs of daily life.

Alex had been ignoring me altogether, even when I tried my hardest to apologize and explain. I don't think I would've had the balls to tell her what was actually going on with me, but every time I get the urge to tell her about my disease, and my endeavor to save my own life with Melody- I don't know, it kind of felt like cheating, in a way. I still talked to my other friends, but the animosity between Alex and I had created an odd little rift in our friend circle. So, I mostly ate lunch alone now since Melody was nowhere to be found. Aside from that wonderful piece of news, school was literally just as awesome as before. I spent the better parts of my day in a classroom with very interesting information that totally did not want to make me kill myself (I know, awkward choice of words). And even better, I haven't talked to my mom at all. Every single time I want to apologize, which- for lack of a better term- was all the time, the words just seemed to die on my lips, and a deep, festering shame would weigh as heavy as lead upon my heart. Guilt-ridden, and horrified at what I said to her, I would slink back into my room and shut the door, trying my best to hold back the stinging tears. The only interaction I had with her were the little notes she left me on the counter, reminding me to take my pills, which I did reluctantly.