Some Only Get Wet

1/4

Rain came down with a furry to it. The clouds dark like heavy ash and the winds like icy kisses. I didn't grab my umbrella when I ran. I only slammed my feet into my old sneakers and plowed through the rickety door to freedom. I was heading anywhere. Anywhere that didn't have Him there.

They say the closest person to your heart is your father. No other man will ever replace him but for me the mailman is more prime father material than that sack of walking shit.

I never met my mother. I don't want to either. If she couldn't be here with me then she's not worth my time. She's a deadbeat parent just like Him.

When I ran I didn't have a set location in mind. I sit on the steps of a old church looking at bare streets because of this reason. I don't want to go into the building since God has never lent me a hand before so I'm not going to kiss his ass to enter one of his humble abodes. I don't want to hear the pity dripping from preachers and old women that don't actually care about my problems. They just don't want to be seen as unworthy and condemned to hell. I don't want to stay in a place where the worshippers are terrified of what they worship. Reminds me too much of home.

I watch the streetlights shine in rain puddles. The streets tonight really are empty. This town isn't necessarily busy and populated but it isn't a quite little town either. I can't tell if the silence is bliss or a hidden nightmare, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I look down at my bloody hands and decide it's a nightmare. I hurt him. I hurt him bad. I still remember the crack when I swung my fist, his grunt of surprise, his scream of pain, and then the deafening silence that followed. I don't know if I killed him. I don't know if he's lying dead in a puddle of his own blood in the living room. All I know is that I don't feel guilty. Jared didn't try to defend Him. No biting or clawing at me. No barking or snarling. He just sat and watched me swing. I guess he didn't receive any love from Him either. I ran. But when I ran it felt like Jared was staring me down the whole time. A witness to a murder. A witness that would never tell the police of my crime. I don't know if that's a blessing or a gut wrenching horror.

I can't picture myself in prison. Then again I can't picture myself anywhere. I don't have friends, can't have friends. I don't stand out in a crowd. I'm bland. I'm plain. I'm invisible to others. If I'm noticed it's never because I'm eye catching. It's because I look like a charity case, a way for people to feel like they did a good deed. A karma balancer. I'm not a person. I'm a tool and for Him a regret.

I wonder if my mom left because of me? I don't think I was the cause since I never met her so it couldn't have been my birth. He's to blame for why she left. I don't know what he did and I don't want to. Maybe he hit her too.

I almost don't feel the tears running down my face. The rain is a good camouflage. However I taste the salt when I lick my lips. I hear my own whines and feel my chest shaking sobs. I watch my hands shake and clench so hard that I don't know if the blood is all His or mine. I want to scream but I don't have the energy. The wind is loud enough that it yells for me.

I killed him. I felt the crack. I felt the surge of power, of satisfaction. I looked into those eyes and I saw fear. Fear and shock. Shock that I would hit him back. No, shock that he created a monster that wanted to hit back twice as hard. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

I cry for hours. Just sitting in the rain on cold stone steps and flickering streetlights; listening to the screams of nature and feel the tears of the ocean. It felt raw. It tasted bitter. It felt bitter. It made me want to vomit. Is earth crying because another one of its children has been tainted? Or is she crying because one of them has done a deed to taint to earth? I don't know anymore.

I want to think through what I've done but I hate the idea of being alone with my thoughts. Instead I look up at the sky. The sky is a dark inky black. I feel like I could raise my hand and dip my fingertips in her unspoken words. It's a beautiful thought however I know the ink will stain me. I guess I dipped to far into my ink and now I have a blot of darkness covering my soul. I killed him. I killed him and I don't fell regret. I killed him and I smiled as I ran.

The goddess of the earth must hate me. She must be so disappointed. She worked so hard to craft me but I only ended up becoming a monster. I wonder if she's looking down at me with her many bright eyes and frowning deeply at her failure of a creation. Maybe she's not angry but weeping for my loss of judgement.

I can feel her stare. It bores into my skin and touches my bones with a gently caress. I feel as if her mouth is against my heart, softly telling me I've done wrong. She wouldn't be spiteful. She's to wise for that. She's seen too much to be violent and unforgiving. She's a proud mother after all. A proud mother that I've disappointed.

I'm sorry...

I'm sorry, mama...

"I know."