Spontanium: A Collection of Short Stories

I Can Hear Rayne

"Rayne! Could you please come downstairs?" I heard my mother yell. It was such a pest to get up from my comfy position before the fireplace, but it was best to listen without hesitation. I quickly rose and made my way down the rickety staircase. It was made of what I suspected to be old kindling. With every step I took, a loud creak followed. There was no way to seem diligent when going up or down the stairs. With a final screech, I met my mother. "Sweetie, your tasks are on the table," she said, quickly making her way into another room, lacking eye contact. Mother was very adamant about using the word "chores". She believed it made me lazy when doing what needed to be done. The word "task" made it seem less like a job, at least, according to her. It was almost as if she never realized that I was sixteen and was aware that a "chore" and a "task" were exactly the same. She treats me like I'm eleven, but that's just because of what happened five years ago.

Mom had been disconnected ever since Dad left on a business trip and never returned. At that point, she started dedicating all of her time to taking care of the cabin. While I was at school, she spent her time cleaning the entire house, head to toe. Once I got home, she would read the day away, only stopping to prepare supper. I seldom missed the old her, accustomed to her new ways. She did her thing and I did mine. My day was simple, just as hers. I would wake up for school, walk a mile to my bus stop, come home and study, have supper, complete my tasks, and read myself to sleep by the fireplace. I was lucky enough to have the entire upstairs with its beautiful balcony as my room. I guess that's just one of the perks of it being only mom and me. It's kind of boring, having no one to talk to at home. The majority of my day is spent in school. However, school was just like home. I never conversed with anyone and they with me. Everyone thought I was strange because I lived out in the middle of nowhere. I suppose I wasn't your typical normality at school. I was more adventurous. Occasionally on my walks to school, I would get up early to go walk through the woods. The woods were so fascinating with its misshapen body and eerie tones. People at school saw the woods as anything but fascinating; most saw it as haunted. I don't understand why people would spread such horrible rumors about something so wonderful. Yet everyone says they are not rumors; they all thought they were true. That was when I started believing them too.

***

My tasks seemed to linger. The tasks were the same as always. It must have just been a thing of my mind. The final task I had left to do was to take out the trash. I had to walk all the way down to the end of our driveway, which was about three quarters of a mile. Yet, the trek never seemed to bother me. I had nothing better to do inside. I grabbed the bag of trash my mother and I had managed after a week and walked out the front door. As I walked, I listened to the melodious sounds of the forest that surrounded me. It was so calming; a peaceful way to finish off my tasks. I always looked forward to this time. The cold air would fill my lungs as I hummed. The snow would wet the soles of my shoes, leaving my toes nice and cozy. This was truly the best part of my day.

Once I reached the end of the drive, I placed the trash in the bin and made my way back to the cabin. As I turned around, I felt a chill down my spine. I disregarded it. As I started to hum my sappy little tune, I noticed that the trees were not joining in. Was I okay? I yet again neglected the off-setting environment and continued on my way. I heard what sounded like a man's voice. I couldn't make out what he was saying, so I approached the frost covered trees. I then could vaguely hear that the man was struggling to say "Rayne". He was nowhere in site. I neglected the fact that I had no idea who was saying my name, or how the heck they even knew my name. All I was worried about was finding this man.

I continued further and further into the heaps of pine and shrubbery. With each step, I felt my feet seeping deeper and deeper into the wet snow. I was treading into areas I had previously left unexplored. The word "Rayne" kept growing louder and louder with each movement. I was pushing and thrusting through vigorous gusts of wind, feeling like I was going to fall over. It caused stagnant, glossy tears to coat over my eyes, making them feel sharp with each time consuming blink. I knew I was getting close. It wasn't just my imagination and sense of reality playing chess, finding themselves at a stalemate. It was so much more than this simple figment. The route created by my name directed me to a froze over river. After sixteen years of living in the same cabin, being the curious child I am, I had never noticed this river. I must have ventured so deep, that I had strayed to somewhere I hadn't been before. The voice, however, is what drew me in. "Rayne... Help..." it squeaked.

Standing on the edge of the river, I looked around, scanning each and every inch of the forest. There, at a nearby tree, I saw it. It was curled up in a little tangle of blankets and leaves, leaning against a tree trunk. It was sitting so low and was so incognito you wouldn't have noticed unless you were looking the way I was. Unless you were longing to know what it was, you would have just mistaken for a stump. I began to approach with slow strides, to avoid an abrupt disturbance. As I got closer and closer, the man's figure became more clear. He was holding something. "Rayne... Rayne..." he said holding it in his left hand; caressing it with his right.

I was then standing behind the man when a branch cracked from behind the both of us. He jolted to turn around. His cold grey eyes, the same color as mine, looked me up and down until he was focused on my face. I then looked down to what he was holding. It looked to be a piece of paper. "Rayne..." he said again, this time noticing that my attention was on his possession and no longer him. He then turned the paper to me. It was a picture; a picture of me as a child. "Rayne..." he took a step closer. "It's me. Your father that should have never abandoned you."

A/N: Hello Everyone and thank you all for reading my short story I Can Hear Rayne. This was something different; I usually would not write this type of story due to it being out of my comfort zone of writing abilities. I was inspired by a picture of a snowy cabin in the woods and it led me to write this story. This was the first story that I have read to a group of people whom I had never met. About a month ago I read it at my high school's open mic and it got a good response, so I thought it would be a great idea to share it with you. However, this idea is not yet finished and is still being expanded upon. I would love to hear your feedback, as it only helps me to become a better author. I will talk to you all soon! TTFN (That's "ta ta for now")!