Rain

• Joanna Nicolo, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2015

I hate the rain. Always have. The worst things always happen to me when it’s raining.

As a child, it would usually only get as bad as slipping in mud and getting a fair amount of cuts and bruises. In my teenage years, it was bullying; getting beaten and abandoned in an alley somewhere, left to my own devices to somehow get home. Even now, as an adult, I still seem to get pushed around and I’ve even ended up with fairly severe wounds every now and then.

Nothing good ever happens to me during rainy times. Expect for tonight.

I was heading out for a date in town. It was just a simple dinner, nothing extravagant. This person seemed to be the one thing that didn’t hate me.

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It was almost midnight by the time we left the restaurant together and started heading home. About 15 minutes into the walk I was suddenly pulled into a nearby alleyway, making me stumble slightly. Regaining my footing I hear a click and look up to see a gun being pointed directly at me.

The holder: my date.

Why? The word timidly stumbled out of my mouth. It didn’t make any sense. Why was my night turning out like this? Without a word the gun was fired, hitting its target with precision; the bullet lodging itself in my heart.

As my “date” walks away, the rain starts pouring; drenching me from head to tow. I just stare blankly up at the sky as whatever little life I had left drains from my eyes and my world fades to only darkness….

I never did like the rain