Collision

Part 1. Rain and Dreams

Peter stood staring blankly out the window on the south side of the house. The rain was pouring so vigorously, that it shook the window pane. Peter lifted his hand, tracing the path of a raindrop with his fingertip, until another raindrop collided with it, sweeping it softly down the glass. He dropped his hand and stuffed it into his pocket. Peter felt as if the rain was like his life. Washing away all the beauty, all the joy and replacing it. To him, his life was like the trees. "The leaves, the best part, wat make the tree lovely, get taken away forever, and then get replaced with new." He would say. Whenever Peter would say things like that, his Father would reply, "But Peter, the leaves are not what make the tree lovely. Its the roots. Its the trunk. As plain and seemingly useless as they seem, they are what give life to the tree. They are like the mind and heart of the tree. The leaves are like your clothes. They don't define you, or make you handsomer, they are just a covering that hides the real you. The leaves hide the tree. The real tree itself. Your heart, your soul- you, are what makes you beautiful." Peter turned away from the window, wishing the sun would come out. For the last three weeks, there had been no sunlight, just darkness, and rain. Peter hated spring. It meant he had to stay inside almost all the time, staring out into water, endless water, that seemed to drown the world. Seemed to soak up life. Just as Peter slumped down onto the couch, his Father, David Hansen walked in and looked sadly at his 17 year old son. Ever since Peter's Mother died, Peter never smiled, never laughed, rarely talked. His Father felt as if his son was locked in a cage and couldn't, maybe even wouldn't come out. David sighed. "Peter, I really wish you'd be a little happier for once." Noticing no change, David sat in his chair and picked up his book he had been working on for eight months and rarely read more than a paragraph at a time. Peter propped his head up on his hands and stared at the wall. He asked, "Don't you ever want things to stay as they are?" " I think everything would get old after a while. " David answered, not looking up from his book. "Well I do." Said Peter. "But for some reason I have an urge to do something different. I guess I'm just weird." David looked up and smiled. "You're not weird." Peter sighed and stood up. "Well I'm going upstairs." "Can you please smile?" David asked warily. Peter rolled his eyes and forced a fake smile where only his mouth was doing the smiling. David sighed, laughed and shook his head. Peter turned and walked upstairs. Though he hated change, something was soon to happen, making him realize, that change is beautiful.