Umbrellas.

Chapter 1: Weather.

I look out of my window; people walk by, their poises and postures and positions predictable when the clouds cast shadow; the damp air clinging to every follicle. The rain dances. As I watch, it becomes heavier. Droplets bounce off their heads and into the gutter. It is wasted. But some starts to settle, in pools. The people step over, but soon it becomes unavoidable, their trousers soaked- the rain stops. The puddles start to disappear as the weather changes. The damp from their clothes dries and people forget the rain but remember the discomfort, so the next time it rains, they use umbrellas- protecting them from what they don't want to see and don't want to feel. It no longer affects them; they no longer care.

My name is Finn. I am fifteen, eleven months and twenty eight days. I like to watch people- not in the creepy "I will follow you home" way, in the "I don't understand you so you interest me" way. Many people call me antisocial or awkward but this is because they do not understand me. When a person has confusion regarding a person, I have noticed they are strongly avoided- I do not have any friends. This does not upset me as such, quite the opposite; my time is spent purely doing things I want to do, I like this so I don't complain. (Much).

An avalanche of knocking awoke me on Monday- the 3rd of March 2014 at precisely 7:15am in case you were wondering- it was the builders next door, my neighbours are having an extension but I am very certain that this does not interest you, as it does not interest me, but I struggle to write without detail. After completing the regular morning routing, I proceeded to leave to school. The sky was totally clear, a haven of complete sanctuary, the birds circled the chimneys in the street almost unconsciously repetitive, as I saw her. It is hard to describe her as she is so breath-taking she is impossible to define. Her eyes sparkled through squinting eyelids attempting to bat away the morning sunlight, a deep bronze flecked with gold. Her butterscotch hair cascading over her shoulders flowing in waves. She, like me was walking alone. She occasionally glanced at her wrist, clearly conscious of the time. Her head turned. She smiled at me. In that moment, my heart plunged towards the concrete and I had to stop and shut my eyes just to allow my heart's pulse to steady. How could someone in one moment feel like this about another person? Emotion pulsed within me, crashing through my chest and plummeting into my stomach- sickening and painful to endure. I felt panic rise like bile as I turned to walk home. I was not going to school today. No. Not this Monday.

As I turned, the wind began to glide through my hair, rustling my trousers; I started to run, picking up my feet as I entered the final street. I rummaged for my key, sweat blossoming upon my forehead, crowning me before it fell to my feet. I stumbled through the door frame and collapsed onto a chair, choking for breath. I felt my body begin to calm, my palms felt less sticky and my fingers finally became still. I gazed out of the window watching the commuters go by, the cars grinding to a halt at traffic lights. Some faces bemused, most content. Her smile burned into my mind such that I could not help but grin. I knew then. How could I not have known?