Cold Hearts in The Rain

Chapter 3

Why am I going?

I asked myself this several times as I walked to the cliff the next day. This is ridiculous. I don't need to talk to him. My mind is made up. I want to die!

So then why was I walking toward the cliff with no intention to jump off of it? When I got there, I saw him sitting on the edge, looking out towards the ocean. He turned around to look at me.

"I knew you'd come," he said, a happy looking smile on his face. I frowned and said nothing.

"Sit," he motioned towards the area next to him. I shook my head and moved back, leaning against a nearby tree.

"You know there's no rain in death," he said, turning and looking me in the eyes. His expression was unreadable.

"So?"

"Well, I've noticed that you enjoy the rain," he replied. "How will you enjoy the rain when there's no rain in death?"

"I won't enjoy the rain then."

"You won't miss it?" he asked.

"No. I won't."

"I think you're lying."

"Think what you want," I snapped, looking away from him.

"I will," he said. "I think that you'll miss the rain the second you're falling towards your death."

I clenched my fist as my chest tightened in rage. An image of me wrapping my tiny hands around his neck flashed in my mind and I reveled in it, highly considering going through with it. I tried to take a menacing step forward, but he seemed unfazed.

"You know what you'll have if you don't kill yourself?" I challenged.

"What?"

"Grief, suffering, hate, anger, anguish, jealousy, pain, want, need. And much more."

"How many things are that?" he asked.

"What?" I responded, confused.

"How many things did you name?"

"I don't know," I said, exasperated.

"Nine," he informed me. "There are more things to live for than to die for." My lips sealed tightly together, and I tilted my head to the sky. My anger was bubbling over and I couldn't swallow it down.

"How about I name some examples? One, love. Two, friendships. Three, happiness. Four, memories. Five, to fight this world and come out victorious. Six, to watch who your children turn out being. Seven, watching yourself become the person you want to be. Eight, being able to watch the sunrise. Nine, being able to watch the sunset. Ten, knowing that you are strong enough to get through the day. Eleven—"

"I don't want to hear anymo—"

"Family," he said.

"Shut up!" I screamed, clenching my fists. I was shaking. I wanted to break things and hit him and hit him hard. Sure, my grandparents were family, but they're not mom and dad. They were my true family.

"It's true," he said.

"Do you know how to be silent?" I hissed, crossing my arms.

"Do you know how to accept the truth and be happy?" he shot back.

"My eyes have opened to this world," I muttered. "This world has no happiness. It's filled with grief and suffering."

"In your eyes, perhaps," he said. "But the small things in life make it worth living." I paused, unable to say anything to counter him. His point was valid—to me, this world really did suck. Didn't mean I was going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right.