Serein

The Rain

  Chime started to ring with the wind, as it bounced against the steels in front of the main door. Trees' leaves struck each other, mimicking the rain. She stepped outside, shuddering as she felt the cold wind. It was nearly dark. But she wanted to be alone. The streets were damp. The streetlights were emitting their reflection on the road. 'It's a good time to explore,' she smiled at the thought. She grabbed her green mountain bike and started to push the pedals with her feet. The wind hissed and the red hood fell off the little girl's head. Her slightly curly hair was dangling freely along the wind. She was quite sure her parents will scold her by the time she gets home. But all she did was close her eyes, as she let the wind fly her away.

  Droplets of rain started to fall on her face from the leaves of her favorite tree, as she lay down on the slightly wet grass. She sighed, staring at the leaves' silhouettes and behind was the dark blue sky from her point of view. 

  “If only I can fly,” she said wishfully while brushing her fingers on the grass.

  “You can.”

  A little boy in maroon wearing silly rubber gloves stepped out from behind the tree, smiling. She wondered how the boy found her there at her favorite place. Or rather, followed.

  “Oh, really? How?” asked the little girl, grimacing.

  The little maroon boy smiled. Raindrops fell harder this time. But the girl's favorite tree didn't held as a shelter long. She pulled her hoodie on her head. She looked at the boy and checked if he was still as dry as the shirt she was wearing inside her hoodie. But he was already shivering and his hair was glistening and spiky. She took a deep breath and decided to do the thing her soul told her to do.

  They finally reached a waiting shed. The little maroon boy took off the little girl's hoodie which he was wearing. The girl was sure he said something as they came inside but was muffled by the sound of the heavy rain hitting the barely-holding roof. She wiped it off. She had other things to think about. It was already dark. While the girl was drying her hair, she thought of something to reason out to her strict parents when she gets back home.

  “Why do I have to live with them?” she groaned.

  The boy's eyes narrow. He couldn't tell if she was crying or not when she was completely wet in the rain. Wet in the rain because of him. He felt silly and thought how he would ever give the girl's kindness back to her. He averted his eyes outside the shed and noticed that the raindrops' shine of the streetlights were mostly seen instead of the nearby houses. That was how heavy it was.

  “I don't even care about how they treat me anymore,” said the boy, with both calmness and sincerity. He thought about those words, over and over again. She quickly faced him with her eyebrows meeting.
 
  “Why?”

  She didn't knew the word overthink. But she was overthinking. However, little did the girl know that the little maroon boy's situation was much worst than she had.

  “I understand them. They're only putting all their frustrations on me. And they didn't mean it. I don't have to worry.”

  The rain was down to a slower fall of pearly drops. The boy's words hit her. With all the negativities and he understood his parents, he was strong. Meanwhile, the little girl felt offended. She was weak. Then she was at it again, overthinking. She was on the verge of crying. Because she pitied herself, and it's always that she hate. Her parents loved her and she ignored it. The more she thought about it, the more she saw that her mother and father were just themselves . . . not the ideal parents whose tones were always sweet as candy canes even when their daughter asks for a silly doll when they're busy doing paperwork at home.

  One thing was verified.

  She only looked partially at their flaws of being parents.

  With this, she held both of her hands in front of her and let the rain pour onto her palms. Looking back at the boy, she smiled and stepped out of the shed.

  Rain was different than she had thought it would be. If one would have let oneself look through sometimes, then even the bad thoughts become good. It was then that she believed everything happens for a reason. Because rain had washed all her thoughts off including bad and good.
 
  The little maroon boy looked surprised. He could have tried to stopped her like any other boy would do to a girl who had forced him to use her hoodie just so he wouldn't get wet from the rain. However, he couldn't go nearer even if he wanted to. He wasn't normal. He was dangerous. An Enigma, he called it, was coiling inside of him. If there was a way to lose it, it was only by being deceased. But he was happy.

  The little girl though, she has no Enigma, but she was not like others. So the little maroon boy did the thing that made his own personality unique itself. Instead of trying to stop her, he smiled back and followed the girl.