Not the Cliché

Raindrops and Tears

Peering out of the glass surface, North’s eyes traced down as every raindrop raced to the bottom on that stormy night.

Her breath slightly fogged up the window but she ignored it, distracted by the sound of every drop hitting the glass. Its melody carried itself throughout her mind, sweet and melodic.

Drop!

That was the only sound that surrounded the whole room. The room felt quiet and serene, just how North liked it.

It was never that quiet until seven ago. She got a letter from the police that her stepfather was banished from the Kennington’s household and that she now owned this house. Quite frankly, she was thankful. He was the last person she wanted to see. Things were different when her mom left him and her when she was eight.

"North, are you okay?" Darn it. She wasn't the only one in the room.

Her twin brother Noah was here as well. Not physically here, though.

Noah was a ghost, simply put. He was the only ghost North could see because she had seen his death.

Maybe she was delirious but she believed in ghosts.

"Yeah, I just want the room to be quiet. I'm tired; that's all. Leave me alone. I'll see you two hours later, okay? Don't bother me."

It all started when their mother had a miscarriage. Only North came out; Noah however, didn't survive.

Because of the miscarriage, North's mother left.

She was furious at her mother for leaving her behind with her alcoholic stepfather.

Noah didn't count because he was only a ghost. He couldn't touch anything; just float around her. Sometimes, she was thankful because she got to see her brother. He kept her company at times when she needed some help.

But there were the futile times when he appeared. For example, when she would be writing a novel in her journal, Noah might look into it.

"Ooh! What's this one about now?"

But if her mother had stayed, she would've understood and cared for her. She would've been there at times when she needed help. She would've been better. Once she left when North was six, Noah came when she was ten. Three years after her mother left the household. She would think of him as a "substitute." 

But the better part was when he came after North's stepfather had been arrested. He doesn't have to see the heartbreaking abuse that she was constantly forced to accept.

Because of her mother, the once happy family went crumbling down.

Her mother was the glue, the connection between North and her stepfather. They weren’t even related so it was difficult for both of them to interact well with each other.

Because her mother broke it, everything became a turn to the worst.

North’s hand crept up and slowly touched the scar on the side of her forehead. The rough surface horrified North every time she touched it. It was ten years since the scar had formed. When North was only nine years old. A year before Noah had come to the rescue.

Too young to go through such a horrible childhood.

 She was only 9.

“Why did your mother have to leave me with you?”

Beer bottles crash as North scrambles up the stairs as fast as her feet can take her. Her fear overwhelms her when she almost trips. Desperate, she used her hands to push herself back to her feet.