A/N: Aaah, I'm sorry for not reviewing for almost 3 months. I got lazy. Anyway, happy Easter to those of you out there! Now, on to the crap I made... erm... story... o.O


What Comes After the Storm?

Chapter 2

"Blam!"

I winced at the sound the door made as it slammed into the doorframe, and earnestly wished I hadn't done that. I heard Kaede calling me from the kitchen, a few rooms away. She must have registered the noise to have been made by me.

"Kagome! Where have ye been?" Kaede inquired. "It is well past six and school ended three hours ago!" I could hear her footsteps comming closer.

All in one instant, I was filled with growing fear. What would she think of my bruises? What if she told a teacher for me? I would be in even more trouble with different gang around my highschool campus. And God help anyone who didn't know how deep I was in for it.

Before my mind could come up with anymore logical thoughts, I bolted. I ran straight down the hall and up a few stairs into the one safe room in the house, the attic.

I quietly shut the door and let my body fall to the floor, all the while leaning on the door. I never usually am the one to run from things. I thought of the other options I could have done. Why hadn't I just grabbed a sweater? It wouldn't have taken too long. I listened to Kaede's footsteps passing right under my hiding spot. Oh well, no use crying over spilt milk.

I looked around and remebered how I used to love the attic. It held all reminants of my past: the ball I used to love to bounce as a child, the dolls my father had bought for me, the chalk I used to draw hopscotch line with when I would play with my sister.

I moved to the far corner of the attic to where I knew the pictures would be held. I blew the dust that had settled over the years off the boxes, and I instantly began to cough. The end result left me falling on the floor. I hope Kaede didn't hear that. I waved the dust particles away and continued my actions. The box held pictures of the family, pictures of my sister, pictures of my sister in numerous beauty contests, numerous dresses, numerous poses, and with numerous people. Frankly, there were numerous pictures of my sister! And yet, none of them held the image of my father and my sister together.

That made me think. Was she ashamed of father? Did she not love him? Everyone loved my father. Well, that could be a biased opinion. In all my years, I have never heard my sister tell my father that she loved him. It made me wonder if she really did. She certainly didn't give the impression that she did. But that couldn't be possible. How could someone not love my father?

My father. A smile graced my lips as I thought about him. I loved him. Maybe I loved him a little more than any normal daughter should. But it was still considered daughterly love.

Tears came to my eyes. I tried to wipe them away, but they kept comming back. Like little army reinforcements, constantly trying to win the dubious war of wetting my cheeks.

I picked up a photo of my dad encased in glass. He was smiling, showing that award-winning grin that chamed so many people including my mother. I found it strange for him to be smiling. I was constantly in pain, and there he was. Smiling.

A feeling like anger swept over me like wildfire, taking everything and replacing it with fury. Why was he smiling? I was compleatly positive that he cared, and yet it loked like he was mocking me, taunting me, telling me how worthless I really was.

I couldn't take it. I smashed that horrid picture with its picture frame into the ground, forcefully trying to plow it through the floor-boards.

The glass shattered, and I saw sybolized through the shards, the wrong I had commited.

Tears came flooding down my cheecks again, but this time I made no attempt to stop them. What had I done? I was now surrounded with little pieces of glass, each one showing the wrong. I picked up a couple of shards of glass, getting little cuts all over my hands in the process. I didn't mind, I just wanted to undo what wasn't intended.

My eyes wandered to the picture and I noticed a little piece of something stuck to the back. I flipped the photograph over and found a note written in my father's messy scrawl taped to the picture. I ripped it off, not caring how part of the note got teared, and slowly began to read.

"To Kagome," I read aloud from the note.

"To see the rain.
To face a storm.
To be lost in the downpour,
and to never find home."

As the last few words left my mouth, a wave of confusion washed over me. What did he mean? Was he talking about my situation? Did he know what my life was like? I think he did.

My dad was a psychic. Weird job, I know. But his predictions were alwas correct. At least in my eyes. Skeptics belived that those were all coincidences, that they happened because the brain wanted it to, then relating to the reading. I didn't belive in what the skeptics said. I had faith in my dad's predictions.

But if what my dad said was true, what did it mean? I had an idea, but it wasn't a good one.

What if my dad referred the precipitaion to my daily abuse? Would that mean by facing my troubles, I would be lost and unable to escape? But my elementary teachers were always telling me that by facing your troubles, things will get better. I was reciving mixed maessages, but my dad was always right.

I concluded that logically, never being able to escape would mean never coming home, or coming to a place of solitude, a place to belong. But then the thought came to me. How could I escape "the downpour"? I thought of my loved ones and realized that I had only three - and a half. Would Sango, Shippo, Kaede, or even Kikyo help me? I denied that thought. Kikyo wouldn't help me and I couldn't put the rest in danger of living the same life as me. I just couldn't do that to them. They were the few loved ones I had left, and I couldn't lose the only lifelines I had.

I would rather face the storm. But then, what comes after the storm?


A/N:
Weeelll, that was fun. Just for the sake of random gloating... I made up that poem! Actually, I had this chapter written out months ago, and at that time it seemed awesome. Now I feel bad. I'm sorry if I made kagome seem a little OOC. I don't usually do 1st person stories so it may be a little awkward... Not to say that it already is... Ahh, as I'm writing this, I am seriously doubting my writing powers. Anyway, sorry for the delay. Not that anyone other than my friend has actually reads this crap... Make me feel happy and review mmkay?