After Rain

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  Sleep by My Chemical Romance
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*Echo POV*

Rain was coming, Echo knew the signs.
First, the sky would change. It didn't  always get darker or lighter, but it was unclear where the sun came from.
Next, the wind. It would pick up and carry smells from were it had already rained.
Ah, the smell of rain. Some people would argue with Echo, saying rain was water and water didn't have a scent. They didn't understand that it was the lack of scent that made the smell of rain so enticing. It remade the earth, making everything new and giving this tired land a fresh start.
Lastly, the sound. The silence of all bugs, animals, even the sky seems quieter. Everything was still and calm waiting for the storm.
When it actually came, it started all at once. The rain, then the dark of smothering clouds, then the thunder and lightning.
The rain was beautiful. But people didn't know what true beauty was, they simply passed rain off as a nuisance.
Rain was extremely beautiful. His light blue hair swept over his eyes and had to be pushed out of the way constantly.
Some times, when Rain was concentrating, the stray strands of hair fell into is face and he was too busy to sweep them away. Echo longed to reach out and tuck the hair out of the way, but knew he could not.
Rain's dark brown eyes seemed to get darker when he looked at Echo. They looked almost black, and Echo loved it. He wished to stare into them for all of eternity, but there was always a disruption.
Rain was Echo's best friend. They talked in school and worked at the same music store. On really slow days they would sneak out of the store and go to the field down the street to smoke cigarettes.
The same field where Echo sat now, staring at the lighter in his hands and smoking a cigarette. He sat on the same fence they would sit on every time. The old wood was cracked and grey, with symbols and names carved into it.
Echo ran his hand over one name in particular, James Bailey, the name Rain's parents gave him at birth. The name Rain had carved into the wood the first time he came here.
Tears dripped down Echo's cheeks as he dug his nails into the wood. He cried for Rain, the poor teen whose life was taken much too young. He cried as the sky changed. He cried as the wind picked up around him, whipping his jacket across his thin torso. He cried as all seemed still, the wind howling alone against the dark sky.
A storm was near, but Rain was not coming. He wouldn't ever be coming back to the field, or to the store, or to school.
The storm howled around Echo.

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