March 31st, 1985 (age 6)
Gray clouds hung above, pushing down against the earth, threatening to crush everyone below. The rain was falling quiet torrentially, drops hitting the floor like soundless music notes. You can barely see anything within eight yards, moreover than a flimsy tree still standing across the road. Plitter, platter, plitter, platter, the rain drops said.
Molly Hooper resided near the house, playing on top of the steps, protected by the wooden roof above. Barbie needs a yellow dress today, to stand out off the grayness around her, Molly thought. Plus, yellow was her favorite color.
There was a sudden clatter. The sound of solid rock falling upon plastic. Molly looked up. She knew it must be a stone falling from the rook and onto the lid of the trash can but she looked up anyway. The rain was getting repetitive and she longed to hear another sound. Instead, her eyes were directed to another object. A figure. Walking in the rain.
It's pouring outside. There is no way anybody would be out there at this time of the day, additionally even without an umbrella! Even six-year old Molly knew that.
"Hey! Where are you going?"
No answer. It was as if the man didn't even hear her.
"Hey! Can you hear me?"
The figure stopped. He turned around. Dark curls jingled slightly as he twisted his head, blue-gray eyes boring into hers.
"Uh… hello!" Molly couldn't think of anything else to say. "Um, are you new here? Where are you going?"
The man blinked at her, black hoodie covering most of his head leaving on his face and a few locks of hair peeking out.
"You can… see me?" The man said it as if it was foreign on his tongue.
Molly was puzzled by this. "Um… yeah?"
A most peculiar expression crossed the man's face as he walked towards her, hands in jeans pocket, sleeves rolled up revealing stark white skin.
"That is quiet, different," he said, searching for the right word. He squatted down so that he was just about the same height as Molly.
"What's your name?"
"Molly," she replied, trying to put as much confidence in front of the stranger.
"That's… a nice name," the man commented. "Where are you parents?"
"They're away for a while, my grandma is inside the house,"
"Sleeping, I presume?"
The girl's eyes widen. "How do you know?"
A smile reached to the man's electric blue eyes. "I simply, observe,"
Molly laughed at this. "Then what are you doing here?"
"I was taking a walk,"
"Who takes walks in the rain?"
"Lots of people,"
"But you're the only one,"
The man stopped. He stared at her for a solid second, eyes scanning her, calculating and storing away the mysterious girl's facts. Molly held her breath.
"You were never supposed to see me," he said softly.
"And why is that?" She asked back, curiosity getting the better of her.
The man before her seem to suddenly age ten years, lines etching into his skin, eyes no longer holding the playful light that was once there. It looked like he was crying, rain sliding down his face like liquid diamonds.
"You don't count," he said.
Then, without another word, he stood up and left.