Waiting with the Rain
She stood in the rain. Her eyes searched without moving. Stiff and tense, she waited. The rush of the pouring rain slapping the soggy earth comforted her. It flowed in ribbons when it could not find a sufficient place to rest, and swirled around her feet as she sank into the wet ground. Her feet were bare, as were her arms and legs. The rain streamed down her skin, down her neck, and curved into her warmth, following the planes and shapes of her body. The trees around did nothing to shield her. She had picked the tallest clearing she could find, to invite the rain, allowing it to consume her.
The memories rushed back as rain spilled down her body.
It had started with a storm unlike any she had experienced. The lightning had been frightening, destructive, and blinding. The thunder shook the house as if trying to uproot its hold to the ground.
There was a sudden complete blackness as power failed in the house. She screamed and groped in the dark for whatever she could reach. Finding her husband’s sturdy, thick arm she clutched to its security, calming her quaking heart. She hoped for savior, but what she ended up with was destruction.
“Hush. It’s only a storm,” he muttered in a reassuring attempt.
The lightning flashed in through the windows, and she took in the faces of her family as they sat around the table. There was her brother, her sisters; young and fascinated by the flashes. Her mother stood at the head of the table, talking calmly. Her voice soothed the fear in the room as she lit candles.
Listening to her mother, she placed a protective hand on her large stomach to comfort the child within her. Eventually, she calmed herself. Her siblings began a game of cards and her husband put loving arms around her and her protruding belly. Her mother smiled over at her, the pride of family shining in her eyes.
Lightning struck the tree in front of their house, setting the dark night ablaze. The tree cracked, falling on top of the house as it burned. Everything shook at the impact and the candles lurched. The house caught instantly, the overturned candles beginning the first sparks of fire. Terrified screams and confusion filled the room along with the smoke. She found herself being lifted and moving through the burning room out of the house, cradled in the arms of her husband. She screamed at him wildly, crying and punching at him. The house crumbled inside itself, capturing her family inside. He refused to let her go back, to let her die as well. It was too late for her family. She had never been able to forgive him for saving her life and taking her away from the fate the rest of her family had suffered.
A few months later, her baby was stillborn and with it she lost the last hope of ever regaining her life and all that was left of her hope, her dreams, and her family.
With the death of her unborn child, the rest of her died. She, too, should have died along with her family that night. Years afterward, all she could do was stand in the rain, praying for another storm to take her as it should have long ago. She could do nothing but stand and wait.
She waited for her life to catch up with her. There was something coming, and she could feel it. Footsteps pounding like the thud of her heavy heart. She waited for them all to return to her, all the people who had left her behind. When it rained, she felt close to them and she no longer noticed the tears that plagued her. The loss of her family had ripped her apart.
Somebody did come to watch her. She could tell it was not who she was waiting for by the audible, stumbling footsteps as he made his way through the forest. The clouds seemed to move closer to cover her. A shudder passed over her chilled skin. The man watched her cautiously, silently standing in range.
“Please come inside.” His voice was thick as it ran to her ears through the pounding rain.
She did not move, and continued waiting.
“At least say something,” the man whom she had once loved as a husband pleaded.
Breaking her stillness, her head turned. Her eyes, full of agony and raindrops, held onto him, sent shocks through him. She turned back to look into the distance for a few moments, and then began to walk. He tried to call to her, but his voice was lost as he was lashed with an icy blow of rain. Her dress clung around her legs as if trying to stop her or slow her down but she took no notice. The man sighed, turned, and walked in the other direction back home.
Once night had laid victory upon the day she moved back through the forest, picking her path silently. It grew dark as she returned to the man who did not understand and the house that had never been a home to her. She stood a few moments before entering.
The door opened stiffly, and her feet slapped on the tile floor. Mud slipped from her skin, carried by the water dripping down her body. It had stopped raining as night had descended, and so she returned.
He sat alone at the table with all of the lights off, sipping a drink that had gone cold with his waiting. As she moved into the room, he followed her silhouette with shadowed eyes. They exchanged no words. The slap of her wet feet pierced the stillness as she moved deliberately. The man shifted from the position he had held for hours. “Welcome home,” he said stiffly. He burned with anger inside, and she knew it.
She stopped walking and stood before him, the table between them. The water dripped onto the floor, forming a shallow puddle for her feet to rest.
“I’ve lost you,” he murmured into the darkness.
Perhaps she should try to explain, try to tell him why she did the things she did. All she could say was, “I am lost.” Her voice was cracked, hoarse with little use.
The words stabbed at him, and his hands shifted on the table. Their attention was drawn there. They saw it at the same time - a carving knife resting silently on the tablecloth. Both of their eyes flashed with sudden fear, but hers swiftly calmed to acceptance.
“Kill me,” she offered him.
Looking up at her in shock, he was greeted with the first spark of life he had seen in her for a long time.
“It’s the only way to make me happy again,” she reasoned. Her eyes pleaded with him.
Hesitation hung thickly like tension between them. They had grown so far apart that he could no longer remember them being close. He knew that if he simply let her go, she would never survive on her own. Decision hardened his eyes and his heart with it.
“You’re already dead to me. You’re dead to the world.” His voice was bitter, but held such truth and acceptance to the pain that labored him every day. “You live for your family that will never come home. They will never return to you.”
She tried to quell the rising anger and hopelessness that stirred within her at the reality of his words.
“You’re already gone,” he whispered soothingly.
Rising slowly, he moved softly to hold her, stroke her soaking hair that was matted and tangled. Releasing her, he looked down upon her, into her dead eyes, her dead face. “You’re already gone,” he said again, cradling the phrase carefully to him with comfort. Moving back, he picked the knife up with shaking fingers, raising it so that it caught distant light from the moon in the window; merely a trick of the light. It was something he held to instead of thinking of the task he intended on completing.
His footsteps seemed to echo as he closed their distance once more, cupped her back gently in his hand and brought the knife to her breast, pointed like a compass at her heart. She looked up at him with shining eyes, and he saw the pain she suffered reflecting up from within her. He pressed….
She was returned to her rain, still and stiff. The rain flowed and found the shape of her body. He laid her on the ground as the drops found her body, and let the rain wash over him before returning inside; perhaps never to appear to the world again.
She waited, waited for them to find her. She waited with the hint of a smile on her lips.
When they finally came this time, they took her with them, and the rain washed over an empty body.
And yeah, I will add a lot more detail and dialogue. I had a word limit for a contest I submitted it to, though. That's the only reason. Usually I'm a lot more in depth. Thanks for the comments and thanks for reading it!
