Umbrella

A short story to reflect upon the main subject of his thoughts. The creative and broken thoughts of his head leaves you with multiple meanings, and leaves you curious on what he does next.

Outside of the walls I can hear repeated screams escaping the mouths of the rain. According to suicidal jumpers that survived, the thought that pushes its way through all the negative thoughts in your head says: “Anything can be fixed.” Now this lasts five seconds depending on the height in which they were jumping. Rain are jumpers. However, they’re regret of jumping doesn’t last five seconds. The average rain drop falls from seven to eighteen miles per hour. In that time range, not only will they think about how wrong they were, they will realize that they didn’t need to jump.

            

I try to block out all the other noise and try to focus on one single rain drop. And with each one I listen to, they all sound different to me. But when I listen to them as a whole, their screams sing in harmony. Why is it that the deaths of a million raindrops sound so beautiful? The sound levels of their thuds went from quiet to loud in a sequence of waves. As I was trying to make out the pattern of their song, I felt the reassuring hand of my mother. I turned to be greeted by a comforting smile. When our eyes locked, she let out the first words of our conversation. “You’ve been staring out the window for so long, honey. You didn’t even hear me come through the front door.” She tilted her as if she were telling me that she was worried for me.

“Just thinking,” I said with a smile. “I finished all my homework already. I didn’t have anything else to do.”

“There’s television, there’s food, there’s internet. I just don’t want you overthinking, honey. You’re nothing thinking about Mar--” I cut her off before she can announce her name.

“No.” I said blankly. “I wasn’t thinking of her.”

            

Her name was clearly not to be mentioned around me. She was a cold-hearted b***h who manipulated me so well, that I couldn’t get a grasp of who I was anymore. I gave her my attention, my time, my presence, my money, my trust�" I gave her everything. Only I didn’t realize she didn’t take any of it. I was just holding out my hands in hopes she’d take them the entire time. And although her non-existent love wasn’t present, I was still so deeply in love with her.

“Come on, get ready to leave.” My mother said. Every morning my mother would come home from work and she’d give me a ride to school. I always felt bad for her, since she always worked a night shift. And she didn’t have to drive me either, but she always insisted on doing so.

            

When I stepped outside of my house, the smell of the air was the first thing that caught my attention. Warm, humid, and comforting. It felt like a wet day in an early summer morning. My mom shut the door behind me and I could hear the rattle from the keys she carries. She nudged pass me, scavenging for a spot inside her bag to place her keys. And for once, I didn’t think of the loneliness. I didn’t think about the pain the past brought me. I thought about how good the air smelt.

I walked down the steps of my front home and unstrapped the umbrella from the side of my book bag. I freed the umbrella from the strap that held it back from opening up. There. I felt it. I felt the shield protect me from the souls of the rain. However, I still question whether I should open the umbrella that still remains strapped in my head. Because although the screams can no longer touch me. The echoes of their screams were louder.

Author's Note

I'm only 16 years old, please excuse the grammar. I'm still only new at this and comments to approve my writing will be extremely helpful! Also this story was to see what other people would make out of it. No one in school is into this type of stuff so i can't really share it with anyone. What meaning did you get out of it? What memories did it bring back? Did it allow you to move on? Thank you. A warm welcome?