Tell Me What The Rain Knows

Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer's Twilight.

November 29

Given from Charlie for no significant occasion, I have been asked to share my days and emotions with this small, yet delicate diary. I have never seen anything like it – sure, I have spotted my friends wielding their own, yet mine has a certain design that makes the dairy exquisitely beautiful.

I have later found out that Edward had suggested the idea of presenting me this gift.

That had explained the very stunning taste of the diary cover. I could never expect that from Charlie.

I had confronted Edward, revealing that Christmas has yet to arrive; all he gave me was a simple smile, the one that dazzles me to no end. I also knew that that smile meant the conversation was over and was not to be dragged anymore but forgotten for the time being.

But that dazzling smile showed a hint of another emotion, one I have never seen so frequently. I was to ask him, but he placed his cold flawless lips upon mine, as if to shush me to not question him because he did not desire to. I felt concern for him wash over me, and as much as I wanted to ask, I did not feel the dire want to query him and make him feel uncomfortable. It was best to leave it until later, I assumed at that time.

It is now dark. I knew for a fact that the sky held no remnants of the brightness of stars, for there are no stars here in Forks. It has just started pouring with rain, heavily. I could hear the soft taps on the ledge of my window. Just then, that was when Edward appeared behind me, sitting on the rocking chair I had had since I was a small child, and when my parents were still together.

When I had looked at him, remembering this foreign look on his face, it is because that now I feel anxiety. He acted strange, stranger than usual these past few days. I had no idea why, but every time I asked, he would give me the same smile, with his lips pressed against mine.

"Edward…?" I remembered calling his name, and that was then he asked me:

"Tell me what the rain knows…"

His voice was no more than a whisper, as it sounded drifting as though his voice was spoken with the wind, and when I blinked, he was gone.

I stared back to the window beside me, and the rain seemed to sparkle in the dark.

&&&

December 20

It has almost been a month since I've spoken here. Dear Dairy, please accept my most sincere apologies, but many things has went on that kept me occupied. One, the Christmas celebrations, concerts, and dances that needed to be prepared before the last day of school, which is the 23rd of December. For the dance, Mike and Jacob has asked me; but when they noticed Edward strolling towards me, his hand briskly encircled my petite waist, and finally, Mike and Jacob got the hint. It was surprisingly funny, for me anyways, whilst Edward just gazed at me with confusion.

On this particular night, though, I was a bit frightened as to where a particular conversation was going to with Edward and me.

"Well? Have you thought about what I had asked you, Bella?"

He spoke with a calm voice, but something I noticed was amiss.

"Um…sort of. What was the question again?"

"What does the rain know?"

I remembered that I stared hard at his flawless face, the face of an angel. I pretended to undergo the poetic personality, and answered him with a terrible accent.

"The rain portrays the depth of anguish, melancholy. A dark sky of tears that fall for the return of a beloved…It knows only of misery."

He had looked at me with a distant emotion in his eyes; one I could not decipher.

"Ah, Bella…do you believe that rain is what you have just told me?"

I had shaken my head a 'no'. And I saw his smile fade into a grin. Not a blissful grin.

"My silly Bella…promise me one thing before I leave for the night?"

"Where will you be going?"

He laughed his melodic deep chuckle. "Nowhere of any significance to inform you. But please, promise me one thing…?"

I could only nod my head in response, crossing my fingers behind my back. He bent down to my ear, his lips barely touching it.

"If the skies mourn, do not portray your definition of the rain."

And with that, he vanished out of sight.

&&&

November 29

A year has passed…and yet I cannot grasp the freedom I yearn for. The liberty of being free from endless crystalline tears, that seem to trickle down my cheeks at the thought of him.

When the snow had fallen, presents given and received and unwrapped, a delicious dinner eaten, and the next morning of bliss, it was when he had disappeared.

Frantically, I had inquired the presence of Edward from the Cullen family. All they gave me was a look that held remorse, and guilt. I figured Alice knew something, and that she thought I wished I would not like to hear it. Jasper tried his best to give me comfort. Even Rosalie, whom I thought she hated me, gave me a sincere smile of empathy. Carlisle and Esme tried their best to find Edward. But he was no where to be found.

I had kept pondering to myself if I had done something wrong to make him run so far…but there was nothing that I could think of.

I also wondered what else Edward could be running from, but I knew nothing of that as well.

I do not know why he chose to disappear, to have gone from my life for eternal, to have taken away my heart along with him.

I had lost my appetite, my moods never in the aisle of happiness.

Last night, a peculiar thing happened.

It had rained for the first time since November of last year. And the same day.

When I reached over to my window and opened the shutters, I sucked in a breath of beauty.

The rain itself was as luminous diamonds descending to the ground ever so lightly, and gracefully. It was unusual for rain, for it slaps the ground hard with a warm temperature. But when I held out my hand to reach for a drop, it felt cold. Cold as Edward's skin.

A wind picked up, and I felt as if it was embracing me. It muttered things I could not determine.

I am so sorry, my dearest, silliest Bella… was one thing I was certain I had heard.

My tears had fallen right there and then. I reminisced the terrible knot in my heart.

Tell me what the rain knows… the wind had whispered once more.

I remembered that night when Edward and I had spoken of the rain. I immediately forced my head to look into the dark sky, the wetness of my cheeks drying.

I worked my way through of the sadness I was going through.

I had felt my lips curve into a desperate smile.

And as I reached out into the rain again, to feel the coldness of the wet drops, it felt warm on my hands.

I had realized that the promise I had made with Edward was a sign of farewell.

I had also realized that the rain was something he did not want me to portray with my tears.

And so every year, the same month and day, it would rain the astonishing gleams of its diamond way, which I knew for a fact that it was Edward, raining down his emotions.

The rain knows me, the way I know him.

StarlessCharm