The Wish From Heaven | ✓

chapter 26 : she threw dawn away

"If my heart desired the ocean, no matter how much glory the sky brought me, it never would've been enough."

Written below, was Rain Castleton's name.

As I walk home, hands shoved into my pockets, a whirlwind corrupts my mind. I keep my eyes ahead, but my thoughts remain busy digging fragments from the past eight days of July's arrival in my life.

Eyebrows drawn together in a frown, I start connecting various dots. The more I think, the more sure I get.

It's him. July is Rain Castleton.

It should've been obvious for me to figure out. Rain died a day before July's arrival. Rain committed suicide. Rain was a victim of abuse. Everything easily clicks together, like pieces in a beginner's level puzzle set.

The only thing that doesn't click, is the fact that July had told me that he wanted to read Rain Castleton's letter that day on the rooftop. It might have been to mislead me, so that the thought doesn't cross my mind, and even if it does, I dismiss it with a wave.

Or, maybe July simply read the letter by himself in my absence one day, and during our conversation that night when he told me about the sky and the ocean, he simply repeated what he learnt. After all, the letter impacted many. And what July said, impacted me.

Or maybe that is just me trying to convince myself.

July never told me his real name. It might have been because Rain has become well-known. I understand everything now.

What I don't understand, is why it is so important for him to hide this fact.

I'm not sure how I feel about this. I don't feel angry at him. I don't feel shocked. I don't feel sad. I don't feel curious. All I feel is a huge, heavy cloud of exhaustion settling over me.

It shouldn't matter. July's mortal life shouldn't matter much to me. It shouldn't change the way I see him, or behave with him. It shouldn't change anything. Because he isn't Rain Castleton anymore; he is July.

July still exists. Rain doesn't.

And yet, I find myself wishing July isn't back yet. That I won't have to face him after opening the door to my room. I never imagined I would feel like that about him out of all people. But right now, I want to be alone, with me and my scattered, disheveled thoughts, preferably over a cup of coffee.

Regrettably enough, tomorrow is Maths.

I let out a sigh. My limbs feel heavy to drag. My hands are sweating inside the pockets, but I don't have the willpower or energy to bring them out. I pass the bookshop I always buy from. I see Dead Poets Society being displayed behind the glass window. I have had my eyes on it for a while now, but it is an old edition, hence a bit expensive. I haven't had a proper lunch at school since almost a year, and also didn't buy any book after Dawn's death, as I stopped reading completely. So I have managed to gather a lot of money. I stand there for a while, looking at the book. Inside, I see Mr. Sheldon, who I now know to be Alex's uncle. He smiles at me and gives a small wave. I smile back politely and walk away.

I decide to sit on the stand beside the bus stop to take some rest. I sit on one corner of it, a woman perhaps on her thirties wearing sunglasses sitting on the other corner all by herself. Every two or three seconds, her hand moves up to pull a strand of hair behind her ear, only for it to come loose again. I see a bald man standing across the street, taking a puff from a cigarette, then raising his head towards the sky, and blowing the smoke out in a long, thin line. A few steps away from him, a little girl is riding a tricycle, a man who is supposedly her father walking beside her, an affectionate smile on his face.