Rain: the lost and the broken
She watched as the rain fell from beyond the window, sad and mournful, and she couldn't help but wonder if it mourned all that had perished, or if it mourned all that had lost themselves. She absentmindedly pulled her worn jacket over her lean body, as she took a moment to reminisce and grieve over those who had been corrupted and those who had fallen. She though back to her school days, back to when her laugh wasn't forced and back to when she was loved.
There had been three of them, all of different backgrounds and blood, but together they'd made it through, together. Gradually though, one by one, they'd fallen apart. She remembered what it was like, watching them try to find themselves. She remembered their suffering and she remembered their wanting to go back so desperately. Sometimes, her eyes would find them in a crowd, but quickly she would remind herself of how they had fallen victim to their own doubts and insecurities, like many others she had once loved. She was one of the lucky ones, she used to hear. But was she really?
She tucked a strand of her curly brown locks behind her ear as she continued to gaze at the rain outside of the café window. The rain often reminded her of her childhood, where she would dance in the rain, paying to mind to how she would feel come morning. It also reminded her of war, of the cries and pleas of the dying, of the battlefield so many souls had been lost on.
She found herself thinking back to the night she'd fled home in hopes of making sense of everything that haunted her. Once upon a time, she'd been happy, but now she could scarcely remember what it felt like. She'd fallen in love once, but that too felt distant.
'I wonder when it was that I lost track of myself. I wonder when it was that I lost hope . . .' she wondered.
"Excuse me, Miss? We're closing now," said a blonde waitress gently, after seeing the same woman, barely legal, come in night after night.
She stared at the waitress blankly, before getting up. With a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, she swung the door open and stepped out into the rain.
And so walked on the lost and the broken.
A/N: Do you like it? Well I hope you do, at least. This is part of The Rain Trilogy, and it's the first piece in the installment. I'm also planning on writing: The forgotten and the resented, as well as The unforgiven and the doubted.
Oh and before I forget, you see that little button that says 'Go' a little way down? Yeah, press it and leave me a little love. You know you want to . . .