I used to love the rain
'And don't forget the biscuits and milk, Ashton.' Morgan yelled from inside the shower. A sigh left my mouth as I walked out the front door. 'Yeah I know. I'll be back in a few.' How could he manage to yell that loud all the way from upstairs?
He's such a weird guy. He retired from the army and started doing weird hobbies. Then he adopted me from the foster home, in Wales. Yes, you may be saying that I'm not thankful for that, but to be honest, I am. He's taken me to places I never even dreamed about, and taught me a lot of lessons. Everything was ok when it was just the two of us going around town, but after a while, old age took over. We rarely went on trips, maybe to the ice cream shop all the way across town, but no where else.
I always ask him if something's bothering him, and I get the same response,'Aye, just getting older, no big deal, Ash.'
Yeah Ash, that's my nickname that I treasure. Anyways, back to the point. I caught Morgan looking at some old photo albums in the attic. I noticed a lady and two other kids, about my age. That lady was his wife, that divorced him at the age of 20. She said that he wasn't paying her any attention, and took the kids out to do shenanigans. That was the only time he spoke about his wife. I guess he adopted me for company. I met his kids before. That was the second most dreadful day of my life.
Then it started to pour. I didn't realize I was standing on our porch for half an hour, thinking about my life story with Morgan. I hopped on my bike. 'Rain or sun, I want food to eat.' I murmured. I started pedaling down the rocky path down the street, towards town. I realized that the rain started to get heavier. After a few minutes of riding down the path, I hit something, lost my balance, and fell.