Just Breathe (IN EDITING)

Rain

This is another flashback chapter. It's the summer before Evan, Lilah, and Phil all head off to their local uni, always pay attention to the bold letters because I won't always leave an authors note to let you know there is a flashback but I will always use bold letter to tell you how much time prior that it had occurred. While reading please leave comments even if it's just a bunch of letters so I know you are actually responding to the story line.

*2 Years Earlier*

Evans P.O.V

The rain was your regular summer rain, drowning and suffocating everything around it.

I always hated it, the rain. I never knew why when I was younger, just figured it was because of the way it soaked my clothing and made my hair even curlier. As I got older I just hated it because it weighed me down, somehow made me hurt even more. Whenever anything bad happened it was raining, and I can't quite decide if it's a not so happy coincidence or a sick joke. I could rattle off the bad things, the tortured memories and with every single one I can practically feel the raindrops that had mixed with my tears whilst each one was occurring. The time was I was twelve and decided to ride my bike though the rain and broke my arm, Lilah's suicide attempt, my first car accident, and probably worst of all the day when Phil collapsed from starvation. So much pain, every memory made more vivid with each and every sound of the raindrops hitting the ground outside of my bedroom window.

That's why I am struggling to fight off the uneasy feeling in my stomach. It feels as if it's clawing away at my insides, whispering the painful possibilities in my tortured ears. It has been raining for three days. When it first started I thought nothing of it, just a light sprinkle throughout the day. The next day I chose to ignore it for if I hadn't I would have been nervous for seemingly no reason. But now it is the third day, and the water is falling harder than before. I am struggling to fight off the sounds of the drops violently bouncing from the roof, doing anything to avoid remembering all of the pain from my past.

The room is dark and I can't find the want to lift myself from my bed to flip the light switch. The dark does not bother me to some extent, the only consequence of the absence of the light is the way that my thoughts seem to creep out of every corner and buzz about endlessly. It is when these thoughts haunt me that all I can hope for is sleep to overtake me and make the once sharp premises fuzzy once again.

The apparent silence is cut through like a knife by a shrill voice. It only takes a moment of startled confusion for me to fully register the voice as my mothers. I assume she is in the downstairs lounge for following her voice was the heavy slam of the front door. She continues to drone on although I can't quite understand what it is she is speaking about for the loud continues stream of water outside and floor between us is muffling her voice. It doesn't take long for her voice to escalate into shouting, directly followed by another and deeper voice. I let out a sigh upon the realization that my parents must once again be fighting over some minuscule issue. Sometimes I wish they would just try a little bit harder, I need them in my life. I need them to be okay because they are the only constant I have ever had.

Before the argument gets too heated I decide it would be best to make my presence clear. I don't want them to assume that I have gone out to Phil's or Lilah's. My presence is the only thing that can end their constant bickering which I have always found questionable considering I am eighteen and can handle a little bit of shouting. I just figure that in their eyes I am fragile, which if I am being honest is probably correct. I roll out of my uncomfortably warm bed and step into the cold air of my bedroom. It is refreshing if anything, hot, muggy summer days aren't exactly all that pleasant without air conditioning. As I make my way across the less than clean room I am careful not to trip over the multiple objects littering the floor in the pitch darkness. Upon opening my door and ascending the also dark hallway the voices of my parents at the bottom of the stairs become much more clear. I make a rash and most likely impolite decision to not reveal myself right away and listen in on some of their harsh conversation.