Ellie's Story

Raindrops

The sky isn't dirty but the rain tastes weird, like it came out of a faucet from a run down city. This was the rain that fell over her tin can home and her miles of holes she found routine in. She felt flushed out of comfort, she couldn't easily hold on the short cut sleeves of her yesterday's and follow it out the door opening, her pretty but run down shoes couldn't Bare to step one foot out in the icky cold. Emmie knew the rain would swallow her feet whole and her shoes would break down to the sock.

She looked blankly through open windows , trying to comprehend how many raindrops filled every 50 foot wide hole in the ground she had been popping in and out of for yours without even a drop of rain. None of her clothes, were prepared for this, but the hikes demanded her attendance, they told her to make her rounds, to visit, to do what you do, and not think so much about it. She squeezed the front of her shirt tightly while shivering, and reluctantly put on her brown boots and semi skinny blue jeans. Her green eyes pierced her glasses and her almost burgandy long curly hair she considered tying up, but decided not to, and left some hairties on her wrist, covering up small butterfly and fairy tattoos. She wraps herself in a small quilt blanket and worries out the door, only feet away from the first of her eleven pits.

She jumped into it, without even looking down. Her boots fell apart like a soaked cardboard, and her socks became wet like a furry dog under rain gutters, and smelled about the same. Her white shirt was nearly soaked to the neckline, and the water accumulated and swayed at her hipline. She wasn't pleased at all, and desperately tried to make her daily steps. She couldn't feel her feet moving, but with an arm on the wall of the hole, she could glide her hand and move her legs afterwards, and get distance, until she circled the whole inside of the gap of Earth. She heard the others call out, to do her rounds. She looks up but nothing is dry to hold onto. Earth gets under her little nails, fingers and toes, to escape the muddy pit. She flops out of one and leaps into another, she does this deep into the night, until all eleven were explored.

She had to pull all her clothes off, still in the rain, before hastily rushing into the house, feeling pretty uncomfortable being so drenched her clothes wernt suited to be indoors anymore or ever work again. They were unrecognizable once off her body like a toilet paper role that falls in a full sink, just mush. She was disappointed and a little disconnected from herself, wondering if anything she did actually was something she wanted to do. Emmie now had one less set of clothing, experienced embarrassment from the removal of her clothes outside, she felt insecure the whole night, but she did find a way to bring comfort and warmth back to her body and settle down the shaking.

She made hot coco from a pot on the stove, she turned on her little radio the shape of a bird, she switched on her mushroom nightlights that decorated the bedroom walls, she began to sit at her bedside and write letters that she postponed for months. She gave her two free roam mice love and attention, they ticked her feet and gave her love, sat on her shoulder and would take naps in her pajama pockets. They would pickup the pencils and try to draw with her. The mice were so happy to see her breaking her cycle, giving them attention again, making sure to do things she truly did enjoy.