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View Full Version : [NSW-Fic] The Mocking Rain.


Kyvios
02-24-2009, 09:55 AM
The rain hit the window hard, unrelenting its torturous sound. As it fell from the sky it assaulted the buildings, the trees, the very ground it use to give life too. Now this rain, this once magnificent liquid that use to bring dreams of romance and love, now only brought the screaming sound of death. It became a custom to hide from the rain, because the meaning of it was no longer the same and knowing that made his heart feel heavy and his stomach twist inside his own body. He remembered the day when this rain first came. All the screams of pain and agony from everyone who was outside and it fell from the sky. That day a report came in that it occurred all over the world and the death count reached in the millions.

He sighed slowly as he placed his hands upon the glass in front of him peering out at the new statistics. People who could no longer bare the feeling of knowing they had lost their children, or spouses, even both. He could see the empty looks upon their faces as they walked out into the pouring organic acid, some did scream out as the pain brought them back into reality, some did not. He watched as one by one they fell to the ground dead, lifeless, feeling the joy of being with they’re family once again.

“Isn’t suicide an eternal sin…” he said turning his back to the window walking out of the room into a hall way “Or it’s something along that line.”

Laughing at himself slightly he realized he hadn’t reached the point of loneliness that would make him want to just not exist. Existing meant he was winning this pathetic war against the rain that called for him as it poured from the sky, ran down his apartment building forming puddles at the ground. In the back of his mind he knew the sun would shine again, if only for a moment like it always does. The sun shines long enough to dry the rain, and give hope of life returning. It was false hope, but any hope at this point was better than no hope. Most of human existence relies on the existence of some fleeing hope, some small inclination that not everything was lost.

He walked over the sink slowly it was this hope that brought him to it this hope that his water was still secure, still safe. As he placed his hands upon the knobs he held his breath, hoping with all his might. The knobs turned slowly under his hands, slowly twisting it, the knobs felt so cold like they knew something he was unaware of. Quickly he shook his head refusing to let doubt control his last bit of sanity, it was this last bit that kept him from becoming just another statistic of the failed human race. The water came flowing from the faucet into the sink. Slowly with some hesitation he placed his hand under the running water. His hand didn’t burn away, no smoke oozed of his hand from melting flesh. He smiled, joy flowing threw his body it was almost overwhelming to him, he turned off the water knowing he had to conserve what little was left.

His eyes glanced up from the sink seeing the rain still assaulting his windows, still mocking his attempted at staying alive. Standing straight up a smile remaining on his face he started to laugh at the rain as if to tell it that it would need to try harder if it wanted to destroy him, if it wanted him to become just another victim to its cruelty. He stepped away from the sink and turned around and started his walk to the living room, the floor creaked and moaned under his weight.

This building was old enough, and the assault from the unrelenting rain wasn’t helping it withstand the agony of time. Most of the building in the neighborhood were old, some old Victorian houses that have so far withstood the test of time, to remain triumphant in this onslaught of the rain. He lived in one of those old Victorian houses, it was divided in two. A wall separated him from his neighbor. His side consisted of living room, kitchen, two baths one up stairs and one down, and a winding stair case that leads to two bedrooms. Since he lived alone he used one of the bedrooms as a study, to do school work, and random other stuff over the internet.

Slowly he lowered himself to sit up on the living room floor facing the television. Reaching his hand behind him searching for the remote, he could feel the fabric of the couch upon his hand, soft, uneven with some coarseness to it. Finally his hand grazed a hard cold plastic device; he grabbed it and brought it in front of him. He pulled one leg closer to his chest resting his chin upon his knee leaving the other leg stretched straight out. He clicked the power button on the controller and the television turned on. To his disappointment only static could be seen and heard, slowly he flipped thru the channels only finding more static, more disappointment.

“Guess I shouldn’t be so picky. Still have power after all” he said to himself grinning with a slight chuckle.

He turned off the television knowing it be stupid to continue his search for some kind of entertainment. Leaning his head back with a heavy sigh he wondered about his family back home in Kentucky, were they safe? Still alive? In the back of his mind he could imagine their screams of pain and anguish as the rain melted away their skin, muscles, nerves and organs leaving only bones that slowly got pounded to dust and blew away. Turning his head he looked at the phone, wondering if he should make another attempt to call them. So far the phone only rang, and rang with no one ever picking up. He didn’t want to believe that they had all died but he also knew he might have to accept the idea. The idea that everyone back home was gone, all his family, his friends, killed.

His heart started to grow and unbearable weight, sliding against the couch he landed on his side weeping. The tears gently caressed his skin as he slide from his eyes some tears sliding down over his nose and falling to the ground from there. The feeling of loneliness was taking over, it wanted to control him, destroy what little hope he clinged too. Should he allow it to win? Allow it to drag his sorry excuse for living into the rain?

He slammed his fist hard against the wood and carpeted floor beneath him yelling out “No!” he sat up clenching his fists “It won’t win. I refuse to become another one of his stupid statistic humans! Try harder you bastard you have to try harder!” at this point he believed himself to be talking straight to god, telling him that this was one soul that wouldn’t cross over so easily.

(yea.. I know. Not the greatest thing in the world. But I'll just torture you all by sharing ^-^)