RAIN
By Rishi
A story about being alone, with nobody but the little raindrops to keep you company.
A/N: I wrote this years ago, so I'm sorry if it's horrid!!!! TT.TT
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I can’t help but linger here on the top step of the stairwell, writing. The only noises are the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops on the roof of the school. I really hope no one will catch me here, even though it's recess and I have nothing better to do but sneak away and sit on the stairwell, wondering what will happen next.
There goes another crack of thunder. The rain pours down harder, almost attacking the school roof. It then softens, and soon you almost can’t hear it. It feels peaceful here--the rain, the silence.
Another crack of thunder breaks, and I jump with a yelp. I look up at the ceiling, and I swear, I could almost feel the raindrops pricking my skin, the wonderful feeling you get every time you go dancing in the rain. Don’t you love that feeling?
Two girls whom I had known since childhood, but never really been close to, Katie and Leanne, race up the stairway. I’m not surprised, because they always help the heath teacher during recess. Katie, the girl with long, light brown hair and coffee eyes, reaches the top of the stairs first, and dashes up the second stairway, then runs into the double doors that lead to the hallway. Leanne, a blond-haired girl who usually has a ponytail with blue eyes runs after her, yelling that Katie had stolen her shoe.
I giggle, and think that was really random. I’m usually like that.
So here I am, alone again, with nothing but the little raindrops to keep me company. It feels nice, the silence and the gentle rain.
Katie comes back again. “What’s wrong?” she asks. “You seem a little lonely.” She plops on the stairway, putting her sandals on. She clearly seems concerned for me, sitting on the top stair alone and all.
I shrug. “I’m just trying to write. Without all the noise, it’s easier in the silence, and it gives me inspiration.”
That was 100% all true. The silence had given me the inspiration to write, because I feel in a better writing mood when I’m alone.
Katie nods, then, after putting on her sandals, runs up the second set of stairs.
..................................................................................
I can hear the clip-clop of high heel shoes coming down the stairs. I look up to see a teacher. “What are you doing here?” she asks, putting her free hand on her hip. She had brown hair down to her shoulders and brown, strict eyes.
“Writing assignment for English,” I lie. I don't think that my English teacher would ever assign something like this. Well, maybe she would, but she hadn’t so far.
The teacher shakes her head. “You aren't supposed to be on the stairway.”
I shrug. “The aids at recess know I’m here.”
She sighs. She knows I’m being stubborn. “Go up to the library.”
I nod, gathering my stuff. As soon as she leaves, I immediately put my stuff back down. No way I’m going to the library!
Then I think about it for a moment. She might come back, I decide, then move to underneath the stairs. No way she would look under there!
Underneath, I try to write. It’s way too dark!
So, I move back to my regular spot, aware of the risk I’m taking of being sent to the principal.
So...................I’m alone again.
Alone. Why is that such a sad word? I’m alone right now, but I feel happy, listening to the raindrops. It’s gentle, the pitter-patter, and the comforting yet eerie silence.
Nobody’s come for a while....Maybe I should move. Nah, I feel comfy right here, my feet dangling above the stairwell, and where the rain can be heard. It’s as if they’re telling me all their little secrets.
The rain let go a little. The pitter-patter is hard to hear now. I settle down in a comfy position, my legs crossed and me leaning down, looking down to the floor. It wasn’t a long drop, but I still was afraid of heights......just a little.
I start to think some more, very aware of the sounds surrounding me, the older students groaning at the sound of a week-long assignment, and the teacher telling them how to do it the easiest way.
I can hear footsteps coming towards the stairway. I scramble up, not wanting to get caught again.
It was just Cari, a girl a year below me. I nod to her, and she goes on her way.
...So I’m alone again.
I can hear people. The eighth graders groaning at a month long English assignment, and the teacher telling them how to do it the easiest way. I smile, and wonder if that’d be me in a few months. It was June of seventh grade. In a couple months, I’d be like them. But I think I’ll manage.
People keep coming to the stairway now. I should go. But I will come back, maybe tomorrow, if it’s still raining. I always want to hear the little raindrop’s secrets. And I always will, if I listen closely.
Fin
