Gone With The Rain

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I quickly wear my clothes and wrap myself in the shawl I always carry around. It is late. Way late than it always got. Samuel hands me the money as I walk out of the door. 

Its cold outside and the lanes are empty and quiet. The clicking of my heels is the only sound I hear. I wrap my arms around myself tighter. I clinch the money firmly in my hands as I walk faster. My phone does not stop beeping. It’s him. 

I don’t answer. I have no answers for his questions. Or maybe I do. But they aren’t the ones he’d take in, or the ones that I would be able to tell. The phone does not stop ringing. I switch it off and dump it inside my tattered bag. It’s torn and dirty, just like I am. Maybe I’ll soon buy a new bag now that I have some money. But can I replace myself?

I don’t blame him for calling. He’s worried. Well, he would be because of my disappearance of every night. But then, I can tell him nothing. We are both from two different worlds and the truth I cannot tell, at least not now. I need to wait for the perfect time. The time that I don’t know when will arrive. 

I keep walking. It starts to rain. My make up starts to shed. 

I like the rain. I like how it drenches me. I like to believe that it cleans me. 

I don’t look for any shelter.

I throw my bag aside and unwrap myself. Letting my hair lose, I close my eyes and stand. I run my hands through my face. I’m tired. The money is wet. It looks useless. Taking one last look at it, I let it fly with the wind. 

Picking up my heels in my hands, I take off. I run. 

I run away from my past.

Tomorrow, I will start again. And if I feel trapped once again, then I’ll wait for it to rain once more. 

For now, I’m clean and my past is erased. 

Yes, tomorrow brings a new beginning and I will run to grab it before its too late.

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