Lethe's Lament

Chapter 4: Rain

It had started raining. Not the pouring, freezing kind of rain that blurs your vision, fills the streets and makes any pedestrian unfortunate enough to find themselves outside soaking wet through and through, but the miserable half-rain that pitter-patters on the pavement around you, and is barely serious enough to pull up your hood for. Cameron definitely couldn't be bothered to pull his hood up as he trudged through the monochrome grey streets. Grey pavement below him, grey concrete buildings around him and grey skies above. None of this improved Cameron's mood in the slightest. With his hands buried deep in the pockets of his warmest hoodie, and his face pointed firmly at the ground, he stumbled along, wishing his apartment was closer to his work, or that he could at least afford to take the bus. But no, every cent that he could save went to the stupidly high rent for his shitty apartment, or eating something besides instant noodles for dinner 7 days a week.

He stopped under a balcony clinging to the side of a large, ugly flat, where the rain couldn't go, and only dripped down from the edges of the balcony, forming a sort of lazy bead curtain of water around him. He felt water seep into the hole in his right shoe, turning his sock soggy, but that was nothing new. He closed his eyes firmly and wiped the water from his face with both hands, before letting loose an exasperated sigh. For a second he entertained the thought of just sitting back against the cold concrete wall and staying there for the night. He was tired and sore, and it would honestly not be much colder than his flat with its broken heating system and his thin blanket. As he stood there, his eyes still shut and his his head still in his hands, a cold wind started blowing through the street, cutting right through his clothes and making the rain hit his back. He shivered, shook his head and stepped back out into the rain, this time with his hood far over his head.

Ten minutes later he reached the front door of his apartment building. He opened the door quickly, and walked up to the elevator. With a sliver of hope, he mashed the "up" button a few times, but the light didn't come on, and the display above the doors stayed blank too. Great. Reluctantly, he turned to the stairs and started climbing them. Step by step he ascended, his footsteps echoing loudly through the empty stairwell, only lit up by a few dim lights in the ceiling, dousing the stairs in a sickly pale light. Floor one, floor two, floor three... All identical and dull, except for the broken window in the door to floor five, which was sad, but at least it was different. On the sixth floor he stopped at the door. A sense of dread overcame him as he raised his hand to the door handle. "It's fine" he told himself. "Nearly there." His apartment may not have been amazing, or even livable, really, but it was preferable over the streets. Relieved to nearly be home, he stepped through the door and looked out into the hallway. He froze in place. Four doors down, in front of his door, stood a man and a woman. The woman was pressing his doorbell, which, unbeknownst to her, had never worked in the time he'd lived there, and the man was loudly bashing on his door. As quickly as he could, he stepped back, slammed the door and bolted back down the stairs. Thoughts were racing through his head uncontrollably, and he nearly slipped off the stairs in his hurry. "How?" He didn't care that his legs hurt with every step, or that the pale light was giving him a headache. Of all the people in the world, these were the ones he least wanted to see. The ones he had tried to escape by quietly leaving without  trace and moving to a different part of the city, a neighbourhood he knew they would never go to. Yet here they were, at his door. He pushed the door open violently and nearly fell out into the street. He more or less steadied himself and looked around wildly. Where could he go? He was completely winded, and he knew he couldn't run much farther. Besides, his head was spinning and his brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool. Unable to make a rational decision, he dragged himself around the corner and propped himself up against a wall.

As he struggled to catch his breath, it all came back to him. It was like someone was hitting his skull with a sledgehammer, and through every crack that appeared, the memories came flooding back, tearing open old wounds. He felt every punch and strike he'd gotten in those three years as if they had only just been dealt. He felt hands close his throat up again, like they had just a few months ago. He heard every insult replaying again and again, to the beat of his heart pounding in his brain. His hands balled into fists and he punched the wall beside him. The pain and the voices didn't stop. He felt anger boiling up inside him, coursing through his veins, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. It simmered and churned and flowed through him, unobstructed, until it reached his brain and, with one last searing wave of pain, it all ended. Cameron collapsed onto the ground.

When he came to, his eyes were still closed, but he noticed an odd sensation. For one, the pain and anger all seemed to be gone, and his mind was strangely at ease, but secondly, he seemed to be standing. Confused, he opened his eyes and nearly fell over. Well, he would have if he could move his arms or legs at all, which was not the case. He found himself in what looked like some sort of riverbed. The surface was pretty hard to look at, as it was pitch black, just like the sky above him. An odd white glow from above and beyond where he stood cast meager light onto the smooth rocks, making them barely visible. His consciousness was just coming back enough to question where exactly he was, and why, when he felt the familiar sensation of water seeping into his socks. He looked down with a frown, and realised a liquid, thick and black like oil, was slowly flowing into the riverbed. On second thought, it wasn't black like oil, but darker. It was almost like it was extracting all the colour from the world around it, which in this darkness didn't mean much, but gave Cameron a very bad feeling about his situation. As he watched, the water level grew higher and higher, almost as if it was expanding rather than flowing in. Stress started to return to his body as the viscous liquid climbed up his jeans, past his shins, knees, calves... It was nearing his hips now, and he still couldn't move. He tensed up his muscles, and tried to free himself with all his strength, but it was futile. The liquid was now up to his chest, rising faster and faster. In the blink of an eye it was up to his chin, and he had to tilt his head back to breathe, until it covered his mouth too, and all he could do was close his eyes and pray. He felt the liquid rising above his head, and he very clearly knew that all hope was lost. After a little while, his lungs felt like they were on fire, and he couldn't stand it any longer. His reflexes took over and he opened his mouth a little, only for the thick liquid to come streaming into his mouth and nose, but instead of pain, or cold, or panic, all he felt was that burning feeling of hate. Together with the liquid, it started soaring through his body, until every inch, every cell of his body was crying out in an unfiltered, chaotic anger. It consumed him. It became him. 

Slowly he felt the river and his consciousness fade, but the anger remained.