Story cover for The best type of weather is the rain by DannyFlounder
The best type of weather is the rain
  • Reads 43
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 11
  • Time 35m
  • Reads 43
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 11
  • Time 35m
Ongoing, First published Oct 23, 2021
When Gray's sister dies and he finds out it may not have been an accident, will he forgive and forget or block everyone out in attempt to find the truth...?


      "Well um...Gray..Ella, your sister she...got into some trouble and she knew you'd flip if you found at she'd been killed so she went for a drive..she was stressed and wasn't focusing on anything but keeping you safe...We asked the police to not tell you and we were hoping you could think it was an accident forever..."

Pathetic, Your sister even died worrying about you, your worthless and stupid.

I shook my head, "No no no...that's not true. it can't be true...she wasn't supposed to worry about me...she was supposed to worry about herself....only herself." It was getting harder to breath and I felt like I was being suffocated.

If you think about it, you technically killed her. See your pathetic and worthless, what kind of brother lets his sister die because he can't do anything right?

"Shut up...Shut up..." I leaned over, everything was getting blurry and I could barely see, though I could hear a few muffling voices and I was picked up, I couldn't tell who picked me up but I knew someone did....Then everything went dark
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!!Trigger warning: suicide, Implied/Referenced Self Harm!! Warnings before sections. . This book is currently discontinued, if I find motivation to finish it it is not in the foreseeable future. . "Trust me." His voice was soft and calming, the way that a good father could be assumed to sound. "This isn't what you want, it never has been and it never will be. Confusion is difficult to work through, but if you just let me help you, I can show you that it can be worked through." He rolled up his sleeve, showing several white streaks across his skin. The other was shocked. "N-no, I'm not good for anything, I'm nothing there's nothing for me." He shook his head many times, holding it in his hands after a bit. "No." "Can I touch you?" The boy who was trying to help this poor soul had approached a few paces. His voice was now quieter, more soft, and still caring. The boy at the bridge took a moment to think, then nodded his approval. The savior gently took the boy's hands delicately in his own and gently pulled the boy back. Well, less of a pull and more of a gentle suggestion. It worked and the boy stumbled down off of the edge. The boy started to cry. How could he be so weak that a boy, the same age as him, who seemed to have the same ideas and hatred toward himself as he, could keep him from stepping off? The other simply gently led him to his vehicle and took out a water bottle out of the backseat. The boy took it and looked at it suspiciously. "It's untampered, look, it's still sealed." Upon seeing this, the boy opened it and took a few sips of water. "Thank you. For the water." The savior smiled. "It's nothing much." He shrugged. "Have a phone? If you want I can put my number in and then you'll always be able to tell someone if you're having a pissy day." Surprisingly enough, the boy agreed. . They would both be around twenty.
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I'm falling... Falling, helplessly and inevitably; completely at the mercy of the forces dragging me down. Having to trust in an entity's blind intentions and praying to God that they won't let me hit the ground. It's an incredible and horrifying feeling. A feeling that I live for. And I have realized that having something to live for makes you all the more scared of dying. (Constant uploads, and even more editing to older uploads)