Disclaimer and such: I own nothing but my mortgage and my cats. Have fun kids!
I used to love the rain.
Back home in Frottica, it was like a lullaby on stormy nights. A symphony to my ears on those
rainy walks in the forest behind the manor. As a child, I used to do little plays and skits
by myself and imagined the sound of the drops were the applause of my adoring fans. When the
mist crept over the lake, I would imagine pirates and sirens and all manner of creatures from
Popsicle's stories lurking just beyond my view. The as rain was fun and exciting. It
brought adventure and magic. As I got older, I huffed and fussed about the state of my
clothes and hair when the clouds opened up just like all the other girls expected of me, but I
secretly adored it. I learned to see emotions in the rain as I learned to deal with my own
teenaged feelings. There were light, happy sprinkles. Melancholy drizzles. Furious
downpours. Even those mischievous cloudbursts that would always catch everyone off guard. I
loved the rain.
When I went to Shiz, I met a girl. She didn't share my love of rain. She didn't share my
love of many things. After a time, I came to know her better than anyone in Oz. She was like
the rain. I started to name her moods to myself. Was she having a muggy morning before her
morning caffeine? A tempestuous debate with a close-minded classmate? My favorites, and
rarest of all, were those few and far between sun showers. When I was blessed with the sight
of one of her full, bright smiles, it was as if a rainbow stretched straight from her smile to
my heart. She was like the rain.
When everything went wrong...when I heard what had happened to her, I never wanted to hear
anything about rain again.
I used to love the rain.