The Devil Went Down To Georgia -Under Editing-

1

It was raining.

The drops pattering on the already wet concrete, creating ripples through the puddles collecting in the gaps of the sidewalk.

A car drove by slowly, it's head lights cutting through the dark like small suns. The tires kicking up a spray of water and distorting the pools of rain, the reflections of the near by street lights and the neon sign of a tattoo parlour, fractured;broken.

I walk with my raincoat pulled over myself tightly, holding my violin case to my chest, protecting the hard plastic from the rain pouring down from the darkened sky.

Another car passes, illuminating everything in a hazy light, then only to disappear again into the night.

It was 9:00 at night and I was just going home from orchestra recital which had gone longer than planned.

The rain had now drenched my hair, leaving it to stick to my face in an uncomfortable way and the wind was starting to pick up ,blowing the dampened leaves across the street.

Lights flicker from nearby houses as I cross the road, shining through the curtains with a dull radiance. The sound of Crickets cut through the muggy Georgia air; the sound was calming.

I walk up the stone path to my house, fumbling for the keys to unlock the door; the rain still coming down in sheets. I open the door and the air condition hit my sweaty skin and I felt a little refreshed.

I set my violin case on the ground, feeling along the wall for the light switch and flicking on. The kitchen is bathed in a soft light and I sigh, going to the fridge.

After all that happened, the house remains the same, the mail lay on the counter, the blankets thrown haphazardly across that back of the couch, the ticking of the clock.

I open the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water,twisting the cap off and taking a drink; my foot taping an invisible melody that only I could hear.

Thunder rumbles in the distance and the smell concrete just after a rain floats through the open window over the sink.

I breathe it in, and memories of my childhood resurface. Running through the puddles with brother, watching the lighting crack across the sky with my Dad, Mom sitting on the back porch watching the rainfall in heavy curtains.

It was all so vivid, so real and life like that I felt I could reach out and touch my Mom's shoulder.

But I couldn't.

I half sob worked it's way up my throat and I quickly took another drink of water to wash it away.

The rain began to poor outside and lighting flicked across the sky, lighting up the living-room with a ghostly paleness.

I go over and pick up my violin case and walk to my room, gently setting it on a table. I change into my pyjamas and fall into bed. I roll over to face the window, watching the thunderstorm battle overhead.

The angels dancing in the sky my Mom always said.

Angels dancing in the sky.

Oh, how I wish it was true.

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The sunlight shines through the blinds, warming my back. I roll over onto my back and looked at the clock.

9:54.​​​​​​

I groaned, stretching, and roll out of bed to make coffee. I had had another recital today at 3:00 and I had to go pick up my dress for the dinner the orchestra I belong to was performing at tonight.