eternal rain : rain lilies

Chapter 2: Drizzle

I can feel the familiar coldness. My teeth are gnashing on each other, desperate to fight the freezing wind. The rain fell mercilessly from the sky, as the chill of it creeps up on my spine. The thousand sharp spikes seep in my bones but my eyes are still closed, afraid to witness and feel the exact scene for one of the many times I can't even count. I heard footsteps from what seems like a lifetime ago, and my eyes flew open on instinct.

My mind drifted back and everything that happened that day unfolded once again before my eyes.

I was back at the tree, our tree, as the scene replays again. My eyes ran over the place, observing, searching. I can just barely comprehend the shapes past the raging angst of the rain. Then out of the blue, I saw him again, his face as clear as the summer sky.

I didn't respond, didn't speak. But then, for the millionth time, he turned his back on me and marched away, leaving nothing but his fleeting footsteps on the wet ground. Just when he's out of my reach, out of my hearing range, I called his name.

He didn't turn.

"Don't..." I croaked the exact word I said before. Like before, he didn't halt, didn't look back.

"Lance! I'll go with you!" I screamed and trashed as I chase after his far, retreating figure. "Don't leave me... please..." I pleaded, as the tormented tears flowed with the rain harassing my face.

Then he disappeared. Just like a long time ago.

He didn't come back. Everything gradually paled and slowly dimmed until it was pitch black as the bare night sky with nothing but nothingness.

I fell down on my knees and cried. I cried for the longest time in my life.

My eyes flew open. Beads of sweat are covering my face and neck. Tears are streaming down my face, soaking my pajamas. This isn't new, far from surprising.

I dreamt of him again, of that first August that I stayed in the rain. As expected, the same agony didn't fail to devour me, the pain I keep on repressing, and the tears I keep on hiding.

My mom came dashing to my room, worry creases formed on her forehead.

"That dream again?" she asked frantically. I just smiled a sad smile and wiped the tears away. "Oh honey... I'm so sorry..." she said for the thousandth time, every time I have a nightmare of him and pulled me for a hug. I don't know why but she keeps on apologizing.

"Mom... I don't understand why you're always apologizing every time this happens..." I stated and pulled away, searching her eyes for an answer. There's something in them that I haven't figured out yet, something important.

"Just let me be honey..." she pleaded and held my face to wipe the last traces of tears and spoke softly.

"Are you sure about the wedding with Rico?"

"Mom, we've already talked about this... yes, I am... I know he'll take care of me... I know I'll be happy... and I wanted to express my gratitude... I love him enough to wish for his happiness..." I reassured her and lied back on my bed.

She stared at me knowingly, as if feeling my dilemma. I turned on the other side of the bed, away from her eyes. I felt the bed rise, a hint of a lifted weight and soft footsteps nearing the door.

"I'm always here to support you..." I heard mom said softly and then a click of the door.

A tear escaped my eyes as the true answer to her question.

---

"Rico?" I called his name loud enough to at least echo within the living room of his apartment, he has a large unit and that's not surprising.

The dream last night, it was quite disturbing. I only came into this realization when my emotions were already in check. Usually, they were just figments, blurry and incomplete. The dream last night was different. It's vivid, clear as it can be, like I'm seeing the present rather than the past. This only happens when something or someone made me remember or trigger his memories, but still not as detailed as that recent dream. The only thing that I could remember which probably provoked it was Joed, the pianist friend that Rico keeps on mentioning.

It could be.

I shook all of the thoughts away as I wandered in his living room. Cream and white dominated the room, very light colors. This place is stunning, even for a well-known condominium. My eyes trailed over the fragile-looking furniture, looking for changes when something black caught my attention.

My heart skipped a beat and my eyes widened in disbelief. A piano is standing on a corner, facing the glass window. It looks so grand, strong yet fragile. Its dark features resemble the affluent ocean when the sun hides.

My feet moved on its own accord and traced the way to where the instrument is, oblivious to the fast shuffling of my heart through the murky memories of the happy times with him. When I finally reached it, my hands automatically felt the tingling sensation of desire to touch its sleek contour.

Trembling, my hands ran its shiny blacktop, ran over my past, and when I raised my head, the glass window was now replaced with an old church window where the sunlight makes its grand entrance. The piano is still there, only older.

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon and the church was strangely vacant. The choir's voices are not resonating within the church walls, and that's very rare.

Usually, they are practicing non-stop as a preparation for a mass. That day, I felt a strange intuition; something tells me that that would be a great day, a chance to marvel over the piano's beauty, or even learn some piece I've researched. I've been looking forward to learn how to play it, staring from afar for a long time.

I looked down, only to be greeted with its glistening keys, and I couldn't help but to press a note or two, too occupied to notice anything.

I didn't hear advancing footsteps to where my direction is. That's when I heard the deep voice of a guy I didn't know. A guy who made me fall in love with that first look.

"Hey, that's my piano..." a voice apprehended, clearer and absolute, like it wasn't a part of my memory.

My eyes flew open and the glass window was back in place, I was back at present. Strangely enough I felt someone's stare at my back and an impatient tapping of foot.

"I said that's my piano..." he repeated, I froze.

Someone's here for real? And it doesn't evenresemble Rico's voice, I pondered mentally. My head turned abruptly towhere the voice came and what I saw drained the blood from my face and nearlygauged my eyes out.