down came the rain [Kiah]

Do you remember when you were 7?

And the only thing that you wanted to do

Was show your mum that you could play the piano

The night was quiet. Not a sound to be heard. No one breathed a word. The silence surrounding me, embracing me in some twisted hug. My breathing was shallow, my breath coming out in large puffs of mist in front of me. My eyes travel down my arms and to the ropes that bound me tightly to the chair, bitting into my red raw skin of my wrists. The speed of my heart began to increase until I was sure that any person who was in the room could be able to hear it thumping against my rib cage, like a distressed bird trying to escape from its cage. The silence drove on, surrounding me, reminding me that I was powerless, that I was weak It drove into me, filled my ears, consuming all my senses, until I could take it no longer.

A sort of twisted hysterical sound ripped from my throat. It filled the empty room in seconds, and bounced off the plain walls. I listened to the sound, drinking it in, until it dissolved into nothing.

* * *

My eyes fly open, thud, thud, thud the sound of my racing heart filled my ears and my breaths came out harsh and short, as though I was short of breath. My eyes instantly searched the room as I struggled into a sitting position. The blankets and sheets of my bed, were tangled around my body, twisted and creased uncomfortably over my long muscular legs. In my panic, I rip the sheets away from my body, tearing them in several places. As soon as I was free from my sea of blankets my mind began to clear up, my muddled and disturbed thoughts became more clear and logical as I sat on the edge of my bed, my feet tucked under my body, my head in my hands.


Just a dream, all just a dream I sooth myself, the pounding of my heart becoming softer and more regular in my chest. But it had felt so real! I tell myself, again the speed of my heart increased slightly as I remember the way the silence had filled me. As I remember how weak and powerless I had felt. My hands instantly travel to my wrists as I remember the pressure of the ropes pressing down around me. Nothings there. Not ropes. Nothing. Just my wrists, the way they had been before I fell asleep. For my own reassurance I bring my wrists to my face, and I study the pale skin of my wrist. See, no red marks, no raw skin. Nothing.


Finally satisfied that it was all a dream I lie back down on my bed, my blankets surrounding my in an almost protective way. I lay there, my eyes closed waiting for sleep to come and take me away. I wait for the sensation of sleep pulling me away into a new world, but nothing comes. I lay there on my back my boy still ringing with the last parts of my previous dream. That’s when I decide that laying here was useless, that sleep wasn’t coming. With that in mind I scramble out of my bed and wall to my wardrobe where I pull out a dark hoodie and a pair of worn jeans. I slip into the cloths and then head down stair. The stair creak with reluctance as I make my way down them, dust that covered them filtered through the air.

Finally I reach the front door. I pull the old door open its hinges squeaking in protest, but it opens all the same. A buffet of wet air and rain sprays me in the face. Surprise surges through me as I pull away from the door, that’s when I hear the pounding of rain against the roof and the windows; it was a soothing sound, a sound that usually made me fill with a sense of being safe. But today it filed me with a different feeling, a feeling which even surprised me, annoyance. A scowl climbed onto my face as I open the door again, taking my first steps into the pouring rain.

I was soaked in a few seconds, as the buckets loads of water press into my skin. I turn my eyes up to the sky the drops of water propelling themselves at full speed into my eyes. Turning away from the sky I start to head over to the shelter of a few trees, before continuing my soaking journey down the wet and miserable pathway. As I walk down the pathway the sound of rain fills into my senses, dissolving any remains of my dream. I welcomed the noise, a small smile playing with the edge of my thin lips.

My smile turned into a full grown smirk when I came across a boy who sat on a lonely park bench. His head was in-between his knees, his eyes studying something of the ground which I could not see through the screen of rain. His lips moved, as though he was talking to someone. Was he talking to the ground? I ask myself the smirk on my face growing. As though sensing that someone was watching him he looked up. His face flushed and he reached up to run one of his hands through his greasy looking hair.

“Uh, hey” He says, his voice is slightly muffled buy the rain, but it is clear from the colour of his face that he is embarrassed to have been spotted talking to the ground. I would be too if I were him I think to myself before turning my full attention to the boy who sat in front of me. He looked about my age, give or take a year or two. He had a soft gentle face and his lips were turned up in a small embarrassed smile.

“Hey,” I say easily taken a couple more steps closer, trying to get a better look at the ground which he had seemed so consumed by. “What you doing? Are you talking with the ground?” I ask a frown forming on my face, “What was it say?” I ask with mock curiosity, tucking some of my soaking blonde locks behind my ear.

Ten years have passed

And the one thing that lasts

Is that same old song that we played along and made my momma cry

The smirk that was plastered to my soaking wet face, only grew when I saw that the boy was unsure on how to respond. I watched as I saw him tossing answers back and forth, his mind working hard as he thought of a decent reply. At first I thought he was going to lie, going to act cool about it. I thought he might just shrug my comment off with a lift of his shoulder and toss the words “What is it to you,” out causally as though he really didn’t care what I thought at all. So you can believe my surprise when the boy opens his mouth to tell me that he had been talking to a worm. ”I was talking to a worm, actually. Um, it didn’t say anything, just kind of wiggled.” The words tumbled out of his mouth as his hand move towards his face, to imitate the wriggling of a worm.

I stared at him. Eye wide. Lost for words. I really hadn’t been expecting him to tell me anything about what he had been doing between his legs, let alone him telling me that a worm was the reason why he had been mumbling words at the ground. Did he realise how silly he looked, telling someone that he had been talking to a worm? I ask myself, my mind finally pulling itself together enough to allow smirk that I had worn earlier return. I felt the beginning of laughter climb up through my body, threatening to escape my lips. With effort I manage to hold back my laughter, but that didn’t stop my shoulders from shaking as waves of the unheard laughter washed over my body. The rain pelted down around us, forming a barrier between me and the boy, distorting his vision of me and my shaking body.

“Tiger? Tiger did you know that I talked to a ladybug today!” The soft gentle voice of my sister filtered towards my ears. Her voice was soft and angelic as her words shifted my thoughts. I momentarily forgot where I was as an image of my sister laying on the grass formed in my mind. My laughter stops immediately and something more sombre and colds creeping into my veins. The smile that spread across her lips was eager and full of hope. “Tiger? Tiger are you listening to me?” She had then ask, her eyes boring into mine. She had looked so small, so innocent, so alive. I watched her through my mind, my mouth going dry.

This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real… your sister… your sister was gone. Something told me harshly to the back if my mind.

“Tiger for god’s sake, are you listening to me?” Her voice had then begun to fill with her well known annoyance and I pushed the nagging thought to the back of my mind.

“Of course Ella. You were saying that you had talked to a ladybug. Ella,” I start my voice gentle, as though I was talking to a baby, and not this thirteen year old girl who lay in front of me, “you know you can’t talk with a ladybug. How many time to I have to tell you. They don’t understand, it’s just a waste of breathe. ” My voice sounds harsher that I remembered and I cringe at the steel in it.

“Your wrong! Your wrong Tiger! It does understand me! It really does!” She screams back, her small jewel like eyes showing the beginning of tears. Look you had made her cry now, good one. The small tears that form in her eyes are send shocks of pain through my chest.

“Ella, please don’t cry. I’m sorry…. I am wrong, your right, they do understand, they understand you. I mean who wouldn’t understand such a beautiful young girl like you?” I say it lightly but the wait of the question weighs down heavily on my shoulders. Our father didn’t. He would rather abuse her then indulge in her happiness. A waves of hate so strong that it even surprises me washes over me.