Rain For Ryan

Tears were streaming down her face; she couldn’t get them to stop. This time her eyes were the only part that cried, she didn’t sob. She stood still and listened to the silence, that’s when she felt the first rain drop. She knew then that she wasn’t crying alone; heaven was crying too.

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August 17, 2013

Life has a beat. The world around us makes noise no matter how quiet we may be. The animals, the wind, the water.  Silence shouldn’t be feared though, it always comes right before the rain.

I miss the rain, we left Washington two months ago and it hasn’t rained once. “It’ll be great!” mom said, and sure Kentucky is nice, but I miss Seattle. It never rains here. Actually, we are in a drought, it hasn’t rained since March, and it’s August.

The house here is great; I finally have my own room. We have a big yard, and our shower never runs out of hot water.  I just really miss Washington. I have no friends here, no life, and not even something to distract me so I can let my emotions out.

School starts next week and I’m actually looking forward to it. It’ll give me something to do during the day. Maybe I’ll make a friend or two, not that I care. I don’t mind being alone. I like just sitting and listening. Silence never feels awkward to me; I don’t like wasting my words on people who don’t actually care.

Shaylee cares, but I don’t see her much anymore.  We moved here and it was like she vanished off the earth.  She made friends with the girl next door the day after we moved here; they’ve hung out every day since then.  I wish that she came home a little more, so I could see her or just ask about her day.  I just don’t want to bother her, she’s probably having fun doing whatever it is her and Meagan do.

Ever since we moved here I’ve started to feel more and more alone. A sort of numbness has begun to take over my body. That’s when my problems started to get more serious. Last Sunday was the first time I did it. I wanted to make sure I could still feel. I wasn’t sure if I was still here, and it was how I checked.

I’m not crazy, I promise. I wasn’t trying to kill myself. It wasn’t a very big cut. I didn’t even bleed very much. I had no idea what I was doing, I don’t know how most people go about this, I’ve never asked someone. I was really scared, so I didn’t just slice, I kind of scratched at my hip with the razor. The cut isn’t very big, it’s about an inch long and maybe a fourth of an inch deep.

I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I’ll probably do it again. I felt the pain; it was the first thing I have felt in months. Cutting my skin didn’t hurt with every cut, but every now and then there was a slice that shot a sharp pain through my body, that’s why I kept going. Because that second of pain showed me I was still breathing. Honestly, after I finished cutting myself I felt better. I could feel the slight sting on my hip, and I felt better than I had for a long time.

Some people might say I have a problem now, but we all have problems. Who are they to judge mine? My problems make me, me. I like being me for the most part. I wish I could have been blessed with Shaylee’s great looks, but I can’t have everything.