I bury my head into my pillow as the door opens. “come on sara, you’ll be late.”
“I don’t want to go.” I mumble. I cant face school today.
I feel the mattress next to my head dip as she sits down next me. “I know you don’t want to darling, but you have to. Everyone does.”
I groan and sit up. “I’m not everyone though, am i?”
She reaches over and smoothes my hair down. “But you still have to go to school. If you work hard now and get good grades then you can be and do whatever you want in life.”
Its silent for a moment.
“He would be proud of you for being so brave. You know that, don’t you?” She whispers into my hair.
A tear involountarily rolls down my cheek. I nestle my head into mums body and she wraps her arms around me.
“I’m proud of you. “ she says, keeping hold of me.
We stay like that for a while. Just her whispering soothing words in my ear and me sobbing like a pathetic toddler.
“I don’t know about you, but I fancy some breakfast, hey? I’ll go and make pancakes. You get dressed.” She says and I loosen my grip on her.
“He didn’t deserve to go.” I say as she stands up.
“No one does.” She smiles sadly, kisses my forhead and then leaves.
That was 2 months ago.
My name is Sara. I am 16 years old. It was my birthday last week.
Right now? I’m in the back of a taxi with raindrops hammering on the window. Mum is sat in the front next to the driver, dave I have learnt his name to be.
I look over at the piles of boxes and bags next to me.
Although there are two other people in the car with me, I feel lonely.
The boy who should be sat next to me is dead. He died 3 months ago and I watched it happen.
That boy was my twin brother.
We didn’t exactly look like twins or even siblings.
That was mainly due to the fact that nearly every human being that layed eyes on him instantly fell in love. He played rugby so he was quite big and muscly. He had blonde hair that gave him almost a ‘cute’ appearance and his eyes. Well. His eyes were the kind of bright blue that you might expect a wolf to have. He was always smiling and I loved him. I loved him.
Me? I have brown hair that ends just below my chest. I guess I’m normal weight and normal height?, maybe a bit short for a 16 year old. Oh, and my eyes are the colour of shit. Brown eyes. Since when in the whole existence of the world was brown a nice colour for eyes.
“20 minutes.” says dave and then continues to hum along to the radio.
After a while I get bored and decide to try counting the raindrops on the window. Ofcourse its impossible because they never stop falling but it keeps me distracted so I persist in my mind games.
I guess I can relate to a raindrop. They just fall and fall and never stop falling until they hit the ground with such an impact they they are separated into billions of tiny other droplets. It sounds weird and cliché, I know but I’m bored senseless and I’m driving away from my home. You can hardly blame me for feeling sorry for myself. Anyway, back to the metaphor.
The thing about raindrops is that once they’ve fallen they just sit, hopeless, waiting for the air to pick them back up again so they can rise back up to be completley and utterly content until the selfish god damned weather its decides their chance to drop back down to the harsh world below.
