I know what you are thinking, oh no not another one of these crazy stories about someone who is a little wrong in the head. I know you are also thinking that you know I can't write stories. But alas, here is one.
There isn't as much detail as I would normally do, and if I do another one then it will. I think...
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The rain is hammering down, bouncing off my head like balls. Water is dripping from my nose like snot and I feel like I am standing in a shower.
I look up at the gray clouds, more water is falling. Maybe I am in a shower, this is all thoughts and dreams, coming out of this mind which I call mine. Maybe you need it to rain for you to have a shower…
“Come on Rachel, it is time to get warm and dry,” smiles the nice woman,
She is in a rain coat. In her hand in a orange and blue spotted umbrella. The rain is bouncing off it, making noises. The nice lady’s hand is out, I know what she wants me to do, but I don’t want to do it. My body stays stiff like cold metal. I won’t go with her, there is no need.
The rain is getting heavier now. It is getting so heavy it is like ice is falling on top of my head. I stare at the lady. She is so dry; her umbrella is protecting her like a shield.
“You need to come in now; this is hail, not rain. It will hurt,” she says,
She sounds worried, but there is no need. Hail isn’t that sore… I put my head up and look at the sky again, they bounce off my eye. I yelp covering it up with my shivering hands.
She’s coming closer, her hand stretched out like she is trying to grab me. She looks scared like I would attack her. Maybe I should… I could become a lion or a tiger, it doesn’t matter because they’re all the same. I could bite her with my razor sharp teeth, gnaw through her flesh. I bite the air, showing my teeth.
She doesn’t back away so I growl, come on lady. Run away, you know you want to. You show your fear too much.
“Please, Rachel, don’t be silly…” She pleads,
“Get lost, I don’t want you. I want Ryan.” I growl,
”Isn’t Ryan with you?” She asks,
“No! Are you blind, are, are you nuts? You are blind” I shout,
She doesn’t understand, though I can not blame her, being new and stuff like that. I growl some more, snapping my teeth at her. The hail is getting even harder now. It is really starting to hurt…
She is coming even closer. What do lions and tigers use? I have always wanted to see a tiger or lion. I only have seen them in boring books with hardly any colorful pictures. I take my hand off my eye.
Claws…
An old, tall man comes out of the building, he walks up to the nice lady. I can hear them talking to each other like I am not here. I scratch my self to see if it hurts. It does, the pain is like a sticker being ripped off my skin. I know that it will hurt them too, unless they have special skin that doesn’t feel pain. They turn to me and see.
“Don’t scratch yourself, it hurts, you don’t want that now, do you?” he says,
“I’m testing” I snap,
“Testing what, Rachel?” He asks,
“For pain, I want to see if it hurts, so I can scratch you like a lion!” I answer,
The hail storm as calmed down now, god has stopped crying. That is what my mother had always said to me when I was small, before this all happened. I wonder why he is so miserable; I hope I haven’t done anything sinful. Everyone says I am a good girl, especially Ryan.
“Come inside, we have cakes!” the old man smiles,
I dither for a moment; the thought of not being able to taste the cakes is unthinkable. Wait, what if they are faking it? Not telling the truth. I could go into the room and there would be nothing there. Maybe there are cakes – but they are made out of plastic. A fake cake is nothing compared to playing with Ryan.
“No! I want Ryan!” I shout.
The lady turns to the man, unsure. What the hell is she unsure about? Everyone knows Ryan. I stomp in the puddles screaming out his name, maybe they would understand what I mean and get him. I don’t know what is so hard about doing it.
“Ryan is inside,” The man says calmly,
“No he’s…” The woman starts,
The old man nudges her, but continues to smile at me, his hand is now out. I grab it. It is still warm, not as cold as my own. At last I am going to see Ryan again…
We walk into the warm building, I let go of his hand looking for Ryan. The light pink floor and white walls are covered in pictures. In the middle of the room is a small plate with cakes on them. Then, I see Ryan, eyeing the cakes. I know he wants them but he just can’t. He isn’t allowed.
“Who is Ryan?” Asks the lady, while taking off her raincoat,
“He is Rachel’s imaginary friend.” The old man smiles,
I rather like it. 
. She's craaaazy, isn't she? You put her thought process down very well, the reader is really drawn in, and I enjoyed this. Although I would have preferred if Ryan was a sick, sick ****, taking advantage of the crazy girl. That's what it sounded like at first. 
. Although I picked up on the Ryan thing rather fast (although I thought she was schizophrenic, instead of having an imaginary friend, but whatever).
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