Rain

• Emily Michel, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2011

The wind was slowly pushing me through the sky. I felt as free as a bird.
I looked down at the many little homes boxed so tightly together, in organised little rows. Laughter rose up to me and my family as children played on the streets, bouncing balls and playing tag in the middle of the roads.

I looked over at my siblings, gliding along beside me peacefully, they were enjoying this too. The children that saw us coming, some ran inside, some looked disappointed, and some just smiled.

We passed over overgrown backyards and small cottage courtyards. Every where we passed people stared up at us.

We passed over a backyard that held a large black dog tied to a peg in the ground. He was lazing on the dead grass quietly till he spotted us; and he erupted in a mixture of loud barks and growls. Running up and down the garden in his attempt to bite us. His hopeless determination made us laugh; a deafening booming noise rumbling over the town.

The crows in the trees that had heard our laughter before were flying in the direction away from us, cawing as they went.

Umbrellas of all sorts of colours bloomed like flowers in the spring, below us. People started to walk faster. To gain cover from us.

We laughed again at the fellow birds, refusing to leave their nests; the loud rumbling of our voices scared them away like all the rest. We looked down at the small country town below us, and suddenly we were alone. Drifting off towards the setting sun, all very, very alone.

Everyone had abandoned us, even the barking dogs. Everyone had run away from us, afraid, and lost. The town was now deserted. The only sound was our loud cries. Our despair led us to anger then to our loss. Our dejection hung over the town like a thick woolly blanket. Cutting out all sound except our own fury. The anger bubbled inside us, threatening to burst. Pushing, pressing, forcing the worse.

Not yet. Not yet. It is not time. Releasing them would be a mistake, too premature. We must make an impact. Our whispers aroused our children from their warm sleep, they wanted out, but we would not permit.

I took a long glance around at the old peaceful town. Wondering if this was really the place. I looked at my sisters, they nodded in encouragement, I hastily agreed, my emotions spilling over, tears and wails of despondency. Rumbles of thunder roared over the town. I cooed to my children, embracing each and every one of them giving them a love and a goodbye.
We gave one last cry then opened our wings and let our children fall. Their wet little faces twisted in smiles as they splashed to the ground.

Go my darlings, you’re free, go fly, fall to earth, fall to ground. You’re free, you’re free to fly.

Finally, it started to rain.