I hate the rain. It reminds me of the last time we saw our parents.

It was raining then. For the past three days in foggy Magnolia, rain has been pouring non-stop. Because of this, father had to temporarily stop his senatorial campaign. I, along with Elfman and Lisanna, were glad because we get to spend more time with our parents. Little did we know that the hugs they gave us would be the last feel of warmth we'd ever get from them.

Rain continuously pours outside the window when mother, in her beautiful rose-inspired chair, began to open a book about birds of prey. She called the three of us and pointed to a picture of a falcon. Her calming voice goes on about how the creature is a combination of elegance and deadly.

Father then entered the room and approached the fireplace to warm up. Then, he knelt in front of us and hugged us with so much love. He looked at us and then mother, and began to push the three of us into a nearby closet.

Father whispers to mother, stroking her beautiful white hair. Her face goes from puzzled to shock and then goes to the closet to talk to us. Mother told us to stay quiet until they say all is well, and hugged us one last time. Because we were curious children then, we tried to take a peek from the small hole on the closet door.

We saw men, around 10 of them, enter our room. Before he could get his pistol, Father found himself facing the barrel of a gun while another person took mother by her hair and pointed a knife on her neck. My father begged that they don't hurt her and that he would give up anything for it, to which the leader seemed to take fancy in. He put down the gun, but when we thought everything will be over, the main man raised his gun and shot mother.

Father was in distraught at the site of his wife being killed in front of him. He immediately dashed to her to lift and place her on his lap, caressing her face while telling her to live. When he raised his head to curse the culprit, he found himself in front of the trigger again, and this time, the criminal made sure that he joined her.

Our youngest sibling yelped after the gunshot, to which I immediately covered her mouth. The man surely heard her tiny voice, for he began to order his men to look for possible witnesses. I was praying to God and all his angels to protect us all from harm's way when suddenly, we heard footsteps near the closet. My brother and my little sister were trembling as each thump came closer to us than the last.

The footsteps finally halted, and the three of us held our breath for the probable outcome, but the leader's voice told them to stop the search. All of them left the room as quick as they came, and when we heard the last steps disappear, I told my siblings to hush while I check outside.

I peeked through the hole first, making sure that no one else was around anymore, and then came out slowly to minimize the door's creaking. I did another check of the surroundings before finally running to my parents who were bleeding slowly to death.

Tears gush endlessly to my cheeks at the sight of my parents who were mere minutes away from their last breaths. I immediately try to shake them to see if they are still alive, but mother took my hand and gave me one more smile.

She wiped my tears with her blood-smothered hands and whispered "Be strong, Mirajane dearest. Be strong for you and your younger siblings."

"Mama, Papa," I responded, "n-no…"

Father then gasped, "Now leave! Leave before they come back"

"But—"

"LEAVE!"

I jumped immediately and dashed to get my siblings. After opening the closet to get them, the three of us ran away from all of it and into the town, where we scurried around to look for somebody—anybody!—who could alleviate our misery.

The rain continues to pour all night long. The three of us were running out of hope because all the people whom we approached have been either shunning us or shoving us away. When the last person in town glared and avoided us, I once again feel warm moisture fill up my eyes. Lisanna and Elfman then held my hands and looked at me with saddest eyes I have ever seen.

I didn't know what to say. I knew I had to say something, but the lump in my throat was too hard to swallow and when I try to think of how to comfort them, confusion, fear and tears would fill me, and my mind would be as unsettled as the weather was.

I look up to the skies and felt the rain pour on my face. Then, as if to mock our misery, the rain began to fall harder. I have never felt so small in my entire life. I have never felt so helpless and weak, and the rain made everything feel so many times worse.

I cried relentlessly, cursing the rain for all that has happened to us that night.

I hate the rain.