Rain

Just look.

As a child, rain always seemed sad and frustrating. It meant that one was stuck inside, usually with not much to do. The only good thing was that it always left puddles for one to jump in and mud to track in the house.

If one had to stay inside all day, one might just make the most of being let out. After all, a muddy house meant more time outside.

Time passed, and adolescence came. All of a sudden, things took on a deeper meaning then they had before. Rain was no longer just a reason to stay inside, it was a symbol of sadness.

Once felt as though the sky was betraying them when the sun dared show its face on a day that he or she found oneself heartbroken. The rain spurred on sadness when there had been none there to be found.

To some, the rain came to mean a washing away of pain. It swept away all sorrows in its showers and torrents. To me, it never did.

Rain had never possessed the magic that others felt it did. It didn't bring pain, or wipe it away. It was simply water that fell from the sky.

There were times that it was needed, absolutely. Rain made it so that plants could grow, so that the days weren't unbearably hot. Rain was a beautiful thing, but still magic-less.

I loved it. I loved the way that it sounded on the window panes. I loved the feeling of it falling down onto my face and skin. I loved how it soaked through my clothes, leaving me cold.

But I couldn't give it the magic that others found in it. I couldn't bestow the power to change moods. I couldn't give it beauty that all could see. I was just an ordinary girl, just like the rain.

Reviews

[Stephen]

A well written piece. Rain to me means a growing garden. A fresh smell and memories that I don't revisit enough. Just relax and enjoy the rain...

[Aislinn]

Thank you.