Tears of Heaven
The gentle chatter of rain seeped into my diminutive campus dorm, as I typed away at my laptop computer. The clatters merged, sending my mind to another land. I did not recall what I was typing, but I was soon drenched in rain, staring at the pile of stones where life once sprung. Who knew that after so many years it still haunted me, but I knew I am only haunting myself. Until the end of time the rain will forever sing its melancholy song.
The sky had a gray complexion on that warm June afternoon, and the anticipated rain was about to fall after weeks of humidity. The sound of children playing and laughing flowed through my open window, as their figures danced mockingly at my stiff corpus. School was out and my first weekend of the summer had been spent with the exasperating flu virus, caught from swimming in the glacial pool.
My sister, two years younger, poked her head in to check up on me. When I told her to leave, she came back with harsher remarks to the point where both of us were screaming at each other. It was an awfully common scene and would last until our mother intervened. In my parents eyes, she was perfect: smart, beautiful, sociable, and filled with hope. This was what they expected of me, but I was always indifferent and silent.
My parents were leaving for their usual Saturday shopping, placing the demonic child in charge. She was to take care of me, as if I was not capable myself.
The rain started to fall as the children outside ran home for shelter. I loved being in the rain. The blend of water and sky flowed with the beauties of nature, while the preceding sunlight tinted on my face. There was one incident where I was lost in the pouring streets a decade back. Drenched and scared I huddled in a corner, hoping for a familiar face to hold my hand. The first glimpses of light following the rain were my parents reassuring smiles. Ive been told when I was young that raindrops were the tears of heaven, and when it could cry no more, it shined with the greatest peace and blessing onto the terrestrial inhabitants.
The tyrant came again. She closed the open window to avoid rain splashing in and arrogantly announced, Guess what I got? She then revealed a sky-blue notebook, filled with all the hopes and dreams I would never speak of. Be good, or Ill tell everything.
You better not, I said with a threatening tone. Give that back right now!
She ran. Lifting my layers of blankets, I dashed after her, but ropes bound my legs, my stomach died of hunger, and my head burned with furry. The world closed in.
It was dark when I finally woke up on my bed, staring at the rain through the window. It came down harder than ever. I called to see if anyone was home, but only my echo replied. Beside my nightstand laid a well-decorated note:
Gone to get your medicine. Be right back!
So I stared into the dark night as the glimmering specs of silver fell from the firmament, and I waited, and waited, and waited
The next day, police officers brought pictures of her broken body to our door. A truck ran her over in the invisibility of the night fog. Overwhelmed with astonishment, I regarded the nauseating images, but the one that struck me the most was not of her, but of a small bottle of flu medicine clinched in her hand.
At that moment, nothing was the same again. The vortex of nothingness taunted me constantly at my desire to turn back time. I even missed her constant irritation and animated spirit. These were so many things I could have done to safeguard her life. Life is the most precious thing humans take for granted. I will forever remember the day my heart broke in half as one part descended into the ground. Whenever the rain falls, heaven would cry for her, and for myself, for I have lost half of my heart.
