"Rain Puddles"
Prologue
55 minutes and forty, forty-two, forty-five, forty-six… seconds.
I had never imagined it to be like this. I had never, not in all of my 23 years, felt so utterly helpless and detached.
56 minutes and six, seven, eight…
I didn't ask myself why, or even how. This was unimaginable, even after it had happened. The door, that third on the corridor, was a little ajar. Behind it, it was dark, terrifyingly so.
57 minutes and one, two, three…
He was gone. Outside the window there was a downpour, cars drove through deep puddles and splashed their content onto the sidewalk. Seattle had never been darker.
57 minutes and fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four…
The television had faded into the background, the saddened news anchors' voices molding into a far-away hum. They had already said enough.
58 minutes and thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine…
The clock ticked loudly in the kitchen. I felt dirty and betrayed.
59 minutes and fifty-eight, fifty-nine, one hour.
He had paid for what he did but I was the one who lost this game.