*** Please read 1 first! Thanks for all the comments - they've been really helpful. By the way, the tense is edited. And this is now chap two.***
Raindrops
It was Friday afternoon. Two days after I fainted in the cafeteria. I still wince whenever I remember that embarrassing situation. Fainting in the cafeteria! How humiliating. In the two days which had passed I had managed to convince myself that my imagination was to blame for that incident. I didn’t see her in the window, I must have been mistaken. I believed this because I’d also convinced myself that I was wrong. I had nothing to worry about. Nothing at all…
Well, not entirely. There I was, Friday afternoon, walking home because yet again I’d missed the bus. I’d missed the bus because yet again I’d been yakking to Jamie and Moe. So now I was yet again walking the two-hour long walk back to my house with my heavy bag hanging awkwardly off one of my shoulders. And to top it off it looked like it was going to rain.
Wonderful.
I glared up at the congealing clouds, daring them to so much as release one tiny drop. Something hit my shoulder. I twisted my head around and saw one small stain slowly spread out into my orange jumper. A lone rebellious raindrop warning me of the flood which was soon to follow.
I was walking home in the rain – yet again.
I opened my mouth to mutter something to myself when I paused, sensing someone behind me. It was a strange sensation, like knowing one of your friends is just behind you, quietly sneaking up on you so they can pounce and make you scream. Only, when I turned to catch them in the act of leaping, there was no one there.
My heart kicked up like a drummer on ecstasy. That feeling like someone was there still hung in the air. The sudden fear was like thick smoke, choking me. I knew it was her. She was here. Following me.
I couldn’t help myself. I called out: “Hello?” There was no answer, just my voice bouncing around the small lane. Perhaps now would be a good time to mention that this particular lane cut through thick woods. Woods which could have been filled with imaginable or unimaginable horrors. And may I also say that I was the only person on this lane, and there were no houses anywhere near, even if there were I doubted they would be filled with brave, kind-hearted people who would instantly come running to my rescue if they heard my screams.
I heard the fear in my voice as I tried again; desperately hoping that it’s just some homicidal maniac hiding behind a tree and not her. “Is anybody there? Hello? Hello?”
No answer. Just the branches of the trees which scraped against each other in the wind. No one stepped out of the woods with their hands held up, laughing. I swallowed – hard. She was here.
The singing started.
My breath whooshed out in a fearful gasp. With wide, terrified eyes I looked around me, seeing nothing apart from the looming trees which were rubbing their branches together gleefully.
It was her. She was singing mournfully – such a sad, deep song it brought a pang to my chest. She had such a beautiful voice! Well, I would find it beautiful if it didn’t scare me so much. If it didn’t seem to come from all around me. If it wasn’t so eerily sad.
There came the low ominous rumble of thunder. Sheets of rain began to fall. She sung louder.
It was the rain which made me run. I spun around and sprinted like mad for the relative safety of home, not even risking a glance back in case she became visible and I didn’t see the drab beauty in my dreams, but some wrinkled old crone with no teeth, or, worse yet, the Grim Reaper himself, brandishing his scythe like a cloaked Jackie Chan.
She was in the rain. It’s impossible, but she was in the rain. Thousands of tiny images of her crying face fell down from the sky and into my eyes. I put up one of my hands to cover my eyes, to block out that image of her weeping face trapped in the raindrops. But I couldn’t block out the sounds of her sobbing as it filled the air around me.
I was almost crying myself. I had never been so frightened in my life. She had only appeared to me in my dreams, but right now I was awake. Even though it felt like it, I was not caught in another nightmare. This was really happening.
Oh how I wish it wasn’t.
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The shower hissed into life as I turned it on. I let it run, waiting for it to heat up as I removed my clothes. Nearly four hours had passed since I threw myself onto the floor of my house, at that point so tired I didn’t really care that the woman could no doubt enter it. I laid on the cold floor until my annoying older brother stood over me with his hands on his hips, wanting an explanation as to why I had collapsed on the floor with my tongue hanging out the side of my mouth. I gave him a half truth about missing the bus and getting caught in the rain. Apparently satisfied with that he left me to die on the floor in blessed peace.
I was almost calm again. I had told myself it was nothing more than my over-reactive imagination. I would’ve said I’d like to get rid of this imagination, but I planned to use it in later life so I suppose I should’ve been grateful. Although it felt more like a curse than a gift. Imagine – seeing her in raindrops?! Whatever next?
Tentatively, I put my hand in the spray, testing the temperature. It was almost warm enough. Bored, my thoughts began to wander again.
Seeing her in my dreams was bad enough, I could just pass it off as a nightmare, but that? Nah, there aren’t really that many explanations for seeing a dead woman in raindrops. I laughed shrilly to myself. Raindrops! As soon as the sound reached my ears I cut it off. It was the noise a madwoman would make.
Just great. I’m going mad.
It is strange how comforting that thought was. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening to me, it was perfectly okay – I was just going mad. That idea was enough to bring a wry smile to my lips.
I tried the temperature again. Perfect.
With a sigh I stepped into the lovely warm stream of water. I felt it roll over my skin like a thousand damp kisses, washing away the last of my lingering horror. Droplets sparkled like jewels as they tumbled down to the floor. Waves of the clear, translucent liquid spilled over my shoulders and the back of my neck, dampening my hair. I held my breath, closed my eyes, and took a tiny step back. Immediately the water streamed over my head and down my face. I felt it, the water as warm as a kiss, as it ran down like I was under a waterfall and not a rather ordinary showerhead. Ah, but this was bliss.
As I massaged shampoo into my hair I began to hum a song. I couldn’t recall the words, but the tune stuck inside my head, pestering me to sing it.
It is only when I was washing conditioner from my silken hair that I realised where I had heard it. Horror crept through me and the water no longer felt luxuriously warm, but more like tiny pellets of ice piercing me and infecting me with their chill.
It was her song.
The song she was singing when she was in the raindrops.
But that didn’t happen, I reminded myself, it was just your imagination – she wasn’t really there.
But the song continued. Even if I was not singing it. I clutched the shower curtain to me as her haunting voice filled the room. My eyes were stretched as wide as they could go as I peered around the steamy room. Her achingly beautiful voice bounced off the teal blue walls, creating the illusion she was surrounding me. She was surrounding me. I was going mad.
“No,” I whispered harshly to myself. “Stop it, stop it. There’s nothing there. Stop it.” My fingers held the damp shower curtain to me so tightly they ached. My knuckles were bone white. Bone white. Images of old, dry bones danced around my mind. Where were her bones buried?
I shut my eyes tightly. “Go away.” The song pressed against my ears. I repeated myself, louder. “Go away!” I squeezed my eyes shut even more. The song was growing louder. Deafening. It rose to its climax. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Leave me alone!” I screamed, ripping the curtain back. I stood there, cold, naked, heaving for breath. I was no longer scared, only angry. How dare this woman scare me so much! Why was she so spiteful? I had done nothing to her. For Gods sake, I didn’t even know who she was! Why did she always try and frighten me? Why was she haunting me? What did she want from me?
Amazingly, the song vanished, leaving only a fading echo.
I began to shake as the anger slowly drained away, taking with it the last of my energy. Tears of frustration threatened. I blinked them away. I had a sudden lump in my throat. What did she want from me? I swallowed, trying to get rid of it. Why was she trying to drive me mad? Goosebumps started to rise on my skin like tiny mountaintops. I started to shiver uncontrollably. What did she want from me…? How long had I been standing there? No wonder I was so cold.
I turned off the shower, which was only spurting out ice-cold water now, and stepped out. I reached for a towel and pulled it around myself. Wary. I was so wary. My actions were as cautious as a deer’s. Slow movements lest I attracted her attention again. How ridiculous.
I forced myself to be angry again, because I was far more courageous when I was angry. Or should the word be reckless? I muttered angry half-sentences as I dried myself down. I applied certain creams and such before I pulled on my pyjamas, still grumbling. I grabbed a hairbrush and turned to the mirror. It was still fogged-over. With the palm of my hand I wiped an area so it was once again clear. Still angry, I glowered at my reflection. Only, my reflection wasn’t there.
I screamed.
one tiny thing that's still not really working for me is this: I like the creepy dad girl better then Amelia. I don't know why. I just do. I don't know why I'm telling you this. I just am.
