Just a Little Rain, or is that Something Else?

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The door clicked shut behind. And then there was silence. I had a single suitcase clutched in my hands, which left me wondering what was inside. I obviously came here with zero belongings. I looked over my shoulder at the towering house and my mind flashed back to the night that I left the orphanage.

The same pain that was sitting in my chest that day was the same feeling that I was experiencing now...lonliness. I had nobody with no home and no money. The ony difference was the time. I tried so hard to be strong, but in the end I just messed it all up and was left in the same place as before.

My throat clogged and tears threatened to escape. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed them to hold their position. I needed to think clearly, I would have time to cry later.

As I struggled to clear my head something wet plopped onto the top of my head. I looked up and another drop landed on my cheek and slid down to my chin. I barely had time to register that it was raining before I was drenched.

The skies opened and blessed me. I laughed as I made a dash through the spitting rain towards the stalls that I knew were on the side of the house.

My feet squelched through the mud and splattered against my legs. I knew for sure that my dress was muddied and ruined, but it's not like it was in mint condition beforehand, due to the whole lunch debacle.

The rain thickened and then suddenly took a turn for the worse. It viciously pelted me. I wiped my eyes to see clearly, but they quickly blurred again. By the time the stalls came into sight I was delerious.

There was nothing a good rain couldn't fix. It was like the world was crying, and who never felt better after a good cry?

I squelched my way towards the stalls, my feet and the mud battling for dominance. The rain started to sting. I cleared my eyes and had a moment of clarity where I could see the rain ping off the roof of the stalls. I looked down, realizing that the rain had turned to hail, and that the ground was littered with balls of ice that were becoming increasingly and alarmingly larger.

I continued to run. The stalls were a good thirty feet from the manor, and the mud, in combination with the hail now falling, caused the journey to take a good bit of time. When I finally slammed against the door a wind seemed to have developed.

It was all very bizarre since it seemed to happen so spontaneously, but then I recalled what had gotten me into this mess in the first place.

The tracherous feeling of pain resurfaced and I worked to push it down as I pried the door open and slid within its dryness. I couldn't exactly say warmth since I was drenched to the bone.

I dropped my suitcase, which I realized I had been clutching with a death grip and using as a shield against the hail. It hit the ground and busted open.


Everything spilled out. Well, a pair of mens trousers and a single tunic spilled out. Among the two articles of clothing was a worn belt, a pair of socks, and a crumpled piece of paper that was quickly becoming limp from the puddle I was creating around myself.

I reached down, scooped it up, and flicked it a couple times in an effort to get the water off without smudging the words. I peeled the thick layers apart and blew on the wet words. I puffed out a cold breath as I took in the long and loopy script that was distinctly written by a female hand. And who else would write me a note than the one and only Lady Harringson.

Dear Blue,

I have been most gracious in volunteering to take up the task of packing your belongings. I closely examined your room and had the revelation that nothing here belonged to you. You did not deserve the duke's generosity and I am most pleased that we are to be rid of you. However, I am not a savage and have equipped you with clothes that are more befitting to your station in life.

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