𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 (miscellaneous pieces)

Raining at Midnight-a short story

Flashes of light.

I watch the scene unfold around me, the droplets of rain hitting the pavement as they pour down from the sky at a mile a minute. I can feel my dark sweatshirt slowly becoming more and more soaked through with rain, but I don't head inside yet. I wanted one last look at the rain.

The dark sky is like a blanket covering the world around me. I lose myself in the sinister beauty that is a thunderstorm.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see who it is.

An old friend.

Now? I silently ask myself. The friend, seeing to read my thoughts, nods.

Their arms open in an embrace, and I walk into their arms, hesitating for a moment. Normally I meet them in times of tragedy, with the loss of something important as they leave. This is the first time I have ever fully embraced them, only having had their hand on my shoulder before. It is at this time, however, that they fully embrace me, and I accept it for the oddest reason. The reassurance in their arms overcomes me, and my eyes begin to close. Right before I fall asleep, I see flashing red, white, and blue lights and the familiar shape of an ambulance.

****

When I open my eyes again, my vision is consumed by the color white. The color stretches on in every direction, and I realize that my friend is still embracing me.

I look up into their eyes, wondering what is going on. Why am I awake again?

Understanding me, they simply unweave their two arms from my frame, their only contact with my body now their hand. On my shoulder.

Please don't leave me. I'm hurting and I want you to take me with you.

They nod, but their decision remains. My time has not come yet.

I nod, wiping a tear away, and they remove their hand from my shoulder. They disappear, and along with them the whiteness around me. I stand there in the darkness for a few moments, then something unbelievable happens:

I open my eyes.

****

I'm lying down in a bed that is not my own. The smell of antiseptic permeates my senses, and I immediately know where I am.

I sit up in the bed, now noticing the tubes I'm connected to and the bandages on my arms. The sweatshirt I was wearing before is replaced by a white patterned hospital gown.

I look up as someone cups my face in their hand. Their face, flooded with relief, shows traces of grief, exhaustion, and stress.

They raise their right hand and begin signing.

I missed your smile. Please never do that again.

Okay, I sign back somewhat weakly, smiling lightly, and they pull me into an embrace. Both of us weep, for reasons that are different and somehow the same. The hospital room around us seems to disappear, leaving just the two of us sitting there, sobbing and hugging each other. We've known each other for ages now, and have now just realized how much we need each other to keep going.

The silent world around us may be unforgiving to people like me, but I've found people like this friend who are there to guide me through it.