It was raining. The kind of rain that's seen in all those dramatic types of movies, pouring down in a never-ending drench. And because he was he and not some other, Garfield would say it was raining cats and dogs. The analogy seemed quite fitting for an animal lover like himself.
The clouds covered the sun in a nearly black abyss, swirling as if it were being stirred by a ladle in a black cauldron. It was amazing that there was still light about, and that he could still see quite clearly despite the downpour of rain and the low, swirling clouds.
The lights from the lampposts flickered unevenly as he walked by, as the change from day to dusk began and the rain still fell. His jeans, heavy from it, slapped against his skin as he walked. His sneakers, entirely soaked through, squished with each step he took, splashing through the deepening puddles of water.
He had his hands in the pocket of hoodie, now nearly charcoal grey in appearance, as he trudged along through the buckets of falling water. With each step he took on the cracked cement of the sidewalk, he allowed himself to be pulled deeper and deeper into his already morose mood. Garfield was not a fan of the rain.
The rain ran from his blond hair in thin streams down his face and neck, so much so that he had given up by now even trying to wipe it away. He just let it just run...
It was amazing to him that no one had noticed him by now, a little boy that appeared about five years because of his short height, wandering about in a torrential downpour at an ever darkening hour of the day. Garfield was alone out on the streets of Jump City in an icy storm, no one to watch or oversee him, in a bad part of the neighborhood. Perhaps that was the problem though. He was in a city, and maybe people here are used to extremely independent children.
As he walked along, Gar thought about how much he had already hated today. How much he cursed this one day with his every being. And as much as Garfield hated the rain, he thought it fitting for it to reflect his mood. He felt he had the right to feel this way. Gar felt he had a right to feel this angry, this lonely, this sad.
After all, today was the day. Today was their anniversary, really also his anniversary. Today was the day his parents had died nearly three years ago, the day of the crash. Today was the day he had lost them forever.
Rita and Steve had told him that what he felt was partially "survivor's guilt," saying that one of the reasons he felt so bad was that he got to live while they died. Garfield had just sat there, watching them try to help him, watching them try to explain to them what went wrong and that his parents were dead. But he wasn't stupid, despite having been only five at the time. He knew his parents would not be coming back.
They tried to talk about it, as a "family." They tried to talk about it in a "safe" environment, with lots of hugs and "It's okay"'s.
Garfield accepted that they loved him in some way. He accepted them having even taken him in as their own. Maybe in a way he even loved them back, a little. And of course he would be eternal greatful to them for keeping him out of orphanages or foster homes or whatnot by adopting him... But they weren't his parents. They could never be his parents.
No one could ever replace his Mom and Dad.
The water, having worked it's way successfully through all of his clothes, seemed to seep through his skin and bones and Garfield felt cold. He felt colder than he had ever felt before.
Why couldn't he have just died with them?
Why won't this rain just...
Stop?
He was five at the time of their death, which he still looked because of his height and childish face, and it's been about three years. He was seven and a half now. A "big" boy. He wondered if he should just get over this.
But no, letting go meant forgetting his parents. He could never forget them. He could never let go. Never.
He let his thoughts change pace, thinking instead of the horrid rain that fell down upon him now, and of how much he hated it. It was wet, it was heavy, and it was freezing.
Who could ever like the rain? It was terrible.
It was quite a surprise to Garfield when he saw a girl just standing there in the street about twenty feet in front of him. The girl was younger, which he could just make out through to rain, and she looked lost to the world.
The girl had a heart shaped face and big eyes, currently closed, tilted up towards the clouds and falling water. Her lips were curved into a small, yet content smile that was mesmerizing. Her hair, like his own currently was, was thoroughly matted down with water and ran in thick rivlets down her back. That was the one thing he took careful notice of in this moment-her hair-so dark and black-it seemed to have a nearly blue sheen to it-unlike anything he had ever seen before.
Later on, he would look back to this moment in his memories and blame fate, but for now his attention was captivated by the small girl standing on the street before him.
Her clothes looked haggard and worn, her skin a paler white than he thought could ever be possible. And she, standing there before him, seemed to enjoy the freezing cold pellets of rain that fell on her. She took no more notice of it then breathing, it seemed. And Garfield stood there, watching her, thinking that he hadn't ever seen anyone look so... free.
A moment later, the doors to one a building across the street burst open and an older woman's authoritative voice rang out,
"Rachel! Come, now, inside! You'll catch a cold."
The girl's eyes snapped open, and he caught a glimpse of two violet orbs before the girl turned away, not noticing him standing there, the small smile that had once lit up her face gone to be replaced by a small frown.
He watched the girl run into the tall brick building, the older woman holding the door open for her, before it shut closed. The sky grew darker around him, and the rain seemed to slow. Yellow light streamed through the glass panes of the door as he watched the older woman and the head of the girl walk away, a clear ending to this one sided encounter worth everything to him.
That girl's small smile had set a change throughout Gar. It had set off a spark that made Garfield Mark Logan feel somewhat alive again, and he thought about it as he walked home.
He had liked her smile.
He knew that true joy and happiness helped to fight off the bad things that came with life, he had learned that lesson fast. And the girl had found such happiness in the rain he hated so. It was such a simple thing, really, and yet it had made her smile.
Garfield's heart had stopped for a moment, thinking about the girl with the heart face and dark hair. He wondered what kind of girl could love the rain?
Whoever she was, he hoped to meet her again. He wanted to thank her in the only way he knew how...
And he wanted to see her smile.