Mickey had always loved the rain. The cold water and the quiet thump of the water droplets hitting the ground was so comforting. When he would look up at the gray clouds in the sky, he couldn't help but smile. In a weird way, it made him happy to think the world was crying. Made him feel like he wasn't the only one who was sad.

As a child, whenever it rained, Mickey would go outside and stand in the middle of the yard, head tilted looking up at the sky, letting the rain wash over him. Mandy would always call him a weirdo, but he didn't care.

His mother always told him that the rain washed away all the bad things people did, cleansing the world of their sins. He didn't understand her at the time, but after her death, he completely understood.

After her death, Terry became even more violent. Anytime Mickey said anything about his mother, he was beat.

"All that bitch ever did was leave me with a bunch of fucking brats I never wanted."

And Mickey wanted to cry out for his mother so bad, but Milkoviches didn't cry. If Terry ever caught him crying, he'd get beat even worse for acting like a fag.

So he never cried unless it was raining outside. He would just let the rain wash over his body, like he always did, but it felt different.

As the cold water washed over black eyes and bruised ribs, Mickey felt at peace. As rain began to mix with tears, Mickey would let all the hate he held in his heart go. Hated towards his father, hatred towards himself for being gay, hatred for the world for taking his mother away.

He would just let the rain wash away his tears. So if anyone ever asked him why his eyes were red, he'd blame it on the rain, because Milkoviches don't cry.