Blue Rain | Short Story Ver. | ✔️

Part Three | After.

She wasn't at school that day, and looking back, I should have known. I was walking home, wondering whether or not I should call her. Stupidly, I didn't. She however, did call me. I remember being cheerful as a clown to pick up the call. She was screaming, sobbing, an incomprehensible mixture of the two. All I could do was try to calm her down, bring up every piece of reason I had. It didn't work.

After what seemed like forever, the line went dead, and I was sprinting. Thinking back, it would've been smarter to call someone who could help her, but my selfishness thought that she only needed me. By the time I got there, stuttering fluorescent blues and reds blinded me. I was told she had met her "breaking point" or that it was just a "severe normality". Those terms terrified me, and as I waited for her mother to allow me into her hospital room I clutched my head in my hands, trying to find sense of everything that I could remember from her call. Back then I racked my brain for clues but found none, now, I remember every word she said.

I walked into the grey, lifeless room, and there she laid. An IV drip was hooked and plastered on her forearm and her blue waves splashing over the pillow. Her eyes fluttered open, and she was awake. I immediately began preparing to apologize for not being there she stopped me with two words.

"I'm sorry." She went on to tell me that if this ever happened again, it was important for me to know that it will never be my fault. "It's not your job to fix me," she said over and over. She told me it was perfectly fine if I never spoke to her again. I refused to agree. She nodded her head at that and smiled. A beautiful, warm smile. But her eyes? They weren't a melting chocolate brown, they were clouded.

And that? That was the beginning of the end.