When It Rains

Wyatt’s P.O.V.

I woke up and stared hard at the ceiling trying to give myself new reasons to get out of bed but I was having trouble again.

This has probably been the worst year of my life so far, my parents were killed in a car accident New Years Day by some drunk driver, I was told by my doctor that I’m clinically depressed and have to take medication, I’m hanging onto a job I hate by the skin of my teeth, my cat Coby died from old age, my two year relationship with my now ex girlfriend ended because she couldn’t deal with my depression so she thought she’d cheat on me with my ex best friend and here I am again trying to lie to myself about how wonderful and promising this new day will be when what I’m really thinking is what the hell else can go wrong?

With that question in mind I felt a little safer about the day so I eased myself out of bed and walked into my bathroom flipping the light switch as I went.

I live in a small apartment that I used to share with Kelly, my ex; I don’t know why I stayed here it doesn’t do anything for my already pitiful self esteem.

I shook myself and tried to block the thoughts because it won’t help me to dwell, at least that’s what my therapist says. I didn’t want a therapist, hell for the first three sessions I just stared at him not saying a word and the only reason I started to talk was because I know how much it meant to my sister that I open up to somebody but what she doesn’t seem to understand is that talking is not always a good thing.

I took my pyjama bottoms off; I never wear a shirt to bed, and got into the shower just standing there and letting the hot water hit me; I probably have it a little hotter than I should but I want to feel something, a lot of the time those meds I take make me a little blank, not nice.

When I was done in there I got dressed not really caring about what I was wearing even though I was about to go to work - the truth is I hate my job I only took it because I could and it pays the bills, not the best reasons I know but it’s kind of how my life works. I work for a recruitment company, I do admin work, you know classic boring small cubicle stuff.

Once I looked half way presentable in black fitted dress pants, white button down shirt and grey sweater with the knot of my black tie popping out from the collar. I left my hair as it was, dirty blonde, long on top and dishevelled from sleep.  

I grabbed my keys from the kitchen counter and walked out of my apartment locking the door behind me. When I turned around and started heading towards the elevator I changed my mind and went for the stairs because with my luck the elevator will get stuck and I’m not in the mood to tempt fate today.  

Valerie’s P.O.V.

I woke up to the alarm I have set on my phone and smiled hearing the familiar – I’m Walking On Sunshine by Katrina and The Waves.

I lifted my legs up in the air and kicked them in the rhythm of the song while my torso did it’s own jig. I rolled from my bed in socks and a nightshirt and started skidding around the room to it picking up my brush when I passed my dresser and sang into it like it was microphone and I was rocking out in Madison Square Garden.

When the song finished I pouted but got on with my morning ritual of getting in the shower and singing every and all songs that popped into my head. I love music and I own a record store, well I inherited it from my Gramps when he passed away two years ago; I was eighteen and wet behind the ears when it came to running a successful business but with a store that already has a loyal and hefty client list I didn’t have too much trouble keeping up with the awesomeness my Gramps left me.

I ran out of the bathroom with a strange energy in a dressing gown that I had the lucky laziness to have left in the bathroom the last time. I pulled on some black tights, a light denim miniskirt and thin white sweater before shoving my feet into some leather biker boots.