Perpetual Rain ✓

Seclusion

The next week went by painfully slow, well it was more like four days technically. You had started to keep a calendar next to your bed and wake up early enough to watch the morning news that your mother would turn on for your father while she waited for him to get out of bed. It helped you understand what day it was since the hallucinations had started to come back. You could only recall being conscious for four days in the past week, meaning you had lost three days without even realizing it.

It was now the first day of September. Three weeks and a day since you had left the physical world and entered into some alternate reality. The only reason you knew that much was due to the death certificate you had found on your mother's bed.

Each day, it rained. Each day almost started to blend into one another. You spent a day just sitting in your house, watching your parents go about their lives in the misery you could still see plastered on their faces like maroon red paint on the living room walls. They never smiled now, there was no longer any warmth in their words when they spoke. Though your father seemed as though he had finally started to eat breakfast once again with Mom, and had calmed down on the drinking ... at least when she was awake.

When the house was empty, you found yourself flipping through page after page of old photo books your mother kept meticulously stashed on the bookshelf in the living room that had long since begun to collect dust. You relived the memories of your life with each turn of the pages, there was so much you had forgotten. So much you could remember dwelling on that seemed so trivial now, so pointless to have ever suffered over something so stupid, like ... your first boyfriend. Or the night of the freshmen dance and the fact that you owned no dresses and had argued with your mother that a suit and tie could be worn by a woman.

You had walked every inch of the street you grew up on, twice. You even visited the local cemetery, having wandered there aimlessly then began to search the gravestones for your own plot, assuming that might have been where you would be buried. But, to no avail. You didn't even know if there had been a funeral for you yet, maybe your parents were postponing it in their grief. Then again, that just made you question what was happening to your body if it wasn't buried in the ground ... Where was it?

That's what caused the hallucinations to return. You were starting to try and understand the visions. They seemed to be caused by trauma, fear, sadness, or dark thoughts. Maybe it was because you were more aware of their possible existence that the episodes seemed shorter than they had been before, it had been two days since your last attack. Though, no matter the length of time, you seemed trapped in twisted memories of your past, the amount of time you'd skip didn't seem to matter. It was always random, a week here, a day there. You were learning to live with them, not that you wanted to.

Standing behind the couch, your eyes wandered the news report for that September day. Outside, it still rained, it never stopped. You started to ponder further on what Jimin had said, that it had stopped raining weeks ago. It wasn't likely that this was just some freak storm that was ravaging your small town, now it was just getting ridiculous and unrealistic. But why wasn't it stopping? You still couldn't quite piece that together.

You watched your father grab his briefcase by the door and offer a lack-luster goodbye to your mother in the kitchen before heading off to work. You stared out the window as he climbed into Manny, your car, and drove away. You couldn't remember seeing Dad's car in the drive away for the longest time now, what ever happened to it? Then again, you died in a car crash. Maybe it wasn't your car you had been in.

You quickly shook off the thought, too worried about triggering another hallucination. What were you supposed to do with today? You could feel the daunting dread of things becoming meaningless, despite your best efforts to not sink into that unforgiving pit. You couldn't help but start to feel a bit secluded. You hadn't uttered a word in the past two days, finding no reason to open your mouth anymore when no one could hear you.

Your mind began to form such dark thoughts. What was the point of all? The meaning behind everything. Was there even a reason to get out of your bed anymore? This is what Taehyung tried to explain to you...

"Some just wander, causing no harm to anyone. Some become violent and lash out. Others choose to stay and just end up tormented by memories of their past or having to watch all their loved ones leave the earth."

You recalled Jimin's words vividly inside your head. None of those choices really seemed to be that favorable, and you still had no idea how you would end up. Then again... there was the fourth option.

Taking in a deep breath, you let the white lace curtain fall from your fingertips and close. You wandered toward the kitchen, hearing the sounds of platters clink as it sounded like she was cleaning up the aftermath of breakfast. Still, she had kept setting a place for three. Though in the past few days she had finally stopped adding an actual plate of food to the spot at the table you once occupied. It seemed to help your father find it easier to eat breakfast in the mornings with her, not having to see the uneaten food just waiting for his daughter to take, even though she never would.

You never really felt like you had been given the 'easy way' out. Looking at the disheartened expression on your parents' faces just made you feel as though they were suffering so much more than yourself. They had lost their only child and were forced to pretend everything was fine in a world that held no connection to you as they had. But even by the way your mother cleaned the dishes in the sink, the slump in her shoulders ... you knew there was a scar on her heart that would never heal.

Your mother wasn't an outwardly religious woman, but you knew she kept a bible in her nightstand beside her bed. You wondered what she thought had happened to you. Did she think you were in 'a better place'? Or maybe did she feel as though you were always with her? You couldn't help but wonder if somewhere, deep down, she knew you were with her. Maybe it wasn't as much of a 'wonder' as it was a hope. But, if she could sense you ... were you bringing her the feeling of joy, or dread?