Jack knew that the storm was coming. He'd seen it on the family computer, the only one they could afford. It still was on Windows Vista. He saw the forecast. The summer rain was almost here.
Jack crept out of his bed, silently, making sure his parents could not hear him. It was almost impossible, the old boards creaked with every step. They needed to be replaced, but the family didn't have the money. That didn't matter, though. He knew his parents would be fast asleep from the drugs.
He slowly tip-toed down the hallway, which was not very long, and turned left. He slowly opened the fly-wire door and crept through it, before carefully closing it and walking to the single, old bench in the paddock.
As Jack walked he looked up. The stars were dotted across the sky, weaving patterns and designs that made Jack appreciate his life, for once. Sure, he was poor, his parents had problems, and he recieved a terrible education. But the stars were amazing.
Jack sat down on the rotted bench 50 metres from the house. He tried to get himself comfortable, though new he never would. After a minute, he gave up and stared into the sky.
And waited.
Waited for the summer rain that was so ever refreshing and warm, even at this time of night. For the storm to wash away his worries and depression. For the small period of time where he can enjoy himself, and finally be happy, for once in his life.
Ten minutes passed. Then ten more. It was cold, and Jack was in his pyjamas still. Jack started to question whether he'd read the radar right.
And then it came.
It hit so suddenly that Jack was startled for a second. But then he smiled a smile that had never come out of him, a real smile. Jack spread his arms and let the rain wash away his memories of being abused, being bullied at school, finding his parent's stash of drugs. He washed away memoried of his childhood, when he was abused and beaten; his brother, who he loved so dearly until he ran away; his school, who did nothing for him but show him how to play footy, not caring that he wasn't sporty and had no intrest. He washed away the memoried of the kids at school, who made everything as bad for Jack as they possibly could. He enjoyed the warm rain that was heavy, but felt gentle on his skin, because the rain was kind to him. The rain drenched him in relief, gratefulness and happiness. Jack spun around, once, twice, three times, and fell into the muddy paddock, laughing and grinning, with a feeling inside him that he had never experienced.
And the rain stopped.
His only remedy was gone. All the memoried came back to Jack; the bullies, school, his brother and his parents. Jack was greeted with an all-too-familiar feeling in his gut; regret, disappointment, and longing. Longing for the happiness he just experienced. Jack knew, however, that it was not coming back.
Jack picked himself up and crept back through the fly-wire door, down the hallway and to his tiny bedroom. He quietly changed into new, non-muddy pyjamas and retreated back into his bed, only uncomfortable because that was where he reflected upon days and worried about others. Jack stared at the blank, torn-down wall, cried a single tear of longingness, and closed his eyes.
