A Familiar Sound

Drip, drip, drip.

Rain pours from the sky, striking the tiles of the roof, then cascading off them to fall to the ground. I sit perched on a bench, watching as streaks of water slide down the glass barrier that separates me from the downpour outside. I wait, alone and watchful, as silence wraps around me, embracing me like an old friend. To me, it is an old friend.

The rain brings back memories. Bad memories. It was a day just like this when it happened. It’s ironic, really, because it was the storm that started the fire, and yet the rain wasn’t enough to put it out in time. ‘If it had, life would be so different.’

A memory flashes before my eyes, of a gloomy day just like this one, of a scream tearing through the air, of a raging fire, scorching heat… and of him. Grabbing my hand as we ran towards the exit, so close and yet so far. We were about to reach it, safety. Then, a chunk of the roof had begun to groan, and he pushed me forwards, his hand leaving mine as he shoved me to safety, yelling at me to go, to run. I remember turning, screaming his name as smoke filled my lungs, as the flames licked higher and higher, and as the roof collapsed, blocking his exit. His face, smeared with ash and dust, almost concealed by smoke and rubble, staring back at me, telling me to run, to save myself. So I did. I did as I was told, I ran until I couldn’t run any more, until I collapsed weeping on the ground. And through it all, that same, mind-numbing sound, over and over again.

Drip, drip, drip.

I should have tried to go back, tried to save him. But I didn’t. I failed. Failed. Failed. Failed!

I shake my head again and again and whisper to myself, “No. No no no no no NO! NO!!” My voice rises and suddenly, I’m yelling.

“Are you alright?” A voice, warm, concerned. I glance up and see a pair of brilliant dark blue eyes staring at me worriedly. A boy stands in front of me. He looks around my age, 16 or 17, tall, with black hair. But that’s not what makes me freeze, my breath halting as I gaze at him in surprise. It can’t be. Can it? It has to be him. It is him.

Before I can stop myself, before I can think it through, I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face against him as I sob, tears pouring from my eyes like the rain outside. I feel him tense, but he doesn’t move. ‘So it really is him then.’ I feel a desire to smile for the first time in ages, even as the tears fall. He’s back. He’s here. Hope begins to bloom inside me. Hope for a chance to escape the ghosts of the past, for life to return to normal.

But fate is cruel, for at that moment, the boy asks, “Umm… This is probably a bad time, but who are you?”

I freeze. The hope inside me wilts and withers like a flower as despair returns, claiming me once again. He doesn’t know who I am. He isn’t him. I draw back and look him directly in the face. He looks like him. But also… not like him. Now that I’m looking at him properly, I can see all of the differences. It’s not him. The last ember of hope dies instantly. ‘It’s not him.’ And not only is it not him, I just embarrassed myself. ‘Way to go.’

I hurriedly step backward and stutter, “I’m so sorry. I… I mistook you for someone else, please forgive me.” The boy looks concerned for a moment, then smirks slightly. ‘Well, that’s a lot like him.’ He says, “Don’t worry about it. I’m William, but you can call me Will. What’s your name?” ‘William. But that’s… his name…’

William. William. William. The name hits me like a wave, memories that I’ve fought to keep buried come rushing to the surface, engulfing me. I stagger backward, my hands clutching at my head as I hiss in pain. Will instinctively moves toward me, hands lifting slightly as though he wants to help but doesn’t know how. Concern is written all over his face. He asks, “Are you okay?” And his tone is so kind and sweet that for a moment, I forget about the pain, the memories. Then they come flooding back in, dragging me down. ‘Just forget about it. FORGET IT!’

“JUST FORGET IT!!” The shout leaves my lips before I can stop myself. ‘Damn it.’ Will looks surprised, then hurt, then annoyed. I reach for him with a hand, words forming on my tongue—words to explain, to apologise—but it’s too late. He turns and storms away, disappearing into the rain. Even after he’s vanished, I stare after him, and in my mind, I see him walking away from me, over and over again.

*****

I shouldn’t be thinking about her. I really, really shouldn’t be thinking about her. And yet I still am. Why? I don’t know. I barely know her. We met once—for what? Five minutes? Less? She shouted at me. I should shake it off, forget all about her. It’s what she told me to do. But… I can’t.

Maybe it was the way she saw me and basically lit up all over. Maybe it was the way she hugged me and held on, sobbing against me as though I was someone she had lost and now found again. Maybe it was how broken she seemed, as though she had seen things that haunted her even now; maybe it was how shattered she looked when I asked who she was, as though I was supposed to remember her. Or maybe it was that something seemed to be hurting her, and how I’d felt a strange, inexplicable urge to protect her—to help her.

Or maybe I’m just going crazy and thinking about a strange girl whose name I don’t even know. ‘Yeah, definitely that.’ I can’t keep thinking about her. I have school tomorrow, I need sleep. But every time I close my eyes, her eyes appear—big and green, innocent yet haunted—looking up at me. Eventually, I manage to fall into a restless sleep, but even in my dreams, she keeps appearing.

The next morning is bright and loud. I get up, get ready, say goodbye to my mum, and start walking to school. I wave hello to my friends when I see them and jog over. We chat for a bit, talking about this and that, then one of them asks me,

“So… Will. Any new people in your life lately?”

I jolt, stiffening instantly. ‘How… How did he know? Stay calm, Will. Jacob doesn’t know. Play it cool.’

I shrug and say casually, “Oh, you know. There’s always new people.”

Jacob and my other friends start smirking, clearly seeing through my pathetic attempt, but before they can grill me further, the bell rings, ending the conversation and prompting us to rush to class. As we pass through the hallway, I hear a couple of other students talking.

“Did you hear? There’s a new girl.”

“Oh? Who is it? Have you met her?”

“I don’t know, never met her before. But Victor saw her when she and her family were moving in. Apparently, something bad happened at her former school, so they came here. I think it was something about a fire.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“What does she look like? Is she disfigured or something?”

“Nah, according to Victor, she’s actually really pretty, with the greenest eyes ever, but when he went up to try and talk to her, she basically ignored him.”

“Great, so she’s pretty and stuck-up. Perfect combination.”

I freeze, turning back slightly to try and find who’s talking, but I can’t see anyone. I think to myself, ‘There’s just no way. It could be some other girl who’s new here and has green eyes. It’s unlikely. But even if it’s not her, I wonder what happened at her old school…’

I stroll into my classroom with my friends and sit down at my desk. I turn to talk to Jacob and the others until Mr. Everhart arrives late. Ten minutes later, he hurries inside, his salt-and-pepper hair disheveled, clutching a stack of books as his glasses begin sliding down his nose. I smirk along with the rest of my friends and am just about to make a snide comment when she walks in.

Her black hair is tied back in a braid, and as her eyes scan the room, they land on me. I see her immediate shift in expression, shock flashing across her face, and she stops abruptly, half-gaping. My classmates quickly realise she’s staring at me and begin to chuckle, and Jacob elbows me, muttering, “Looks like someone has a little crush.”

I glare at him, but he keeps on smirking like there’s no tomorrow.

Mr. Everhart clears his throat sharply, and silence falls. Even Jacob shuts up. ‘Finally.’ Mr. Everhart nods, surveying us sternly, before turning to the girl and motioning for her to come over. She ducks her head and hurriedly steps to where he stands, blushing slightly. Mr. Everhart says, “Class, as you can see, we have a new student.” He motions to her, and she blushes even harder, looking straight down at her feet. I catch myself staring at her so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if I started seeing through her. Of course. Of all the girls in the world who could be in my class, it just HAD to be her. Mr. Everhart continues, “I expect each and every one of you to treat her with courtesy and respect. Elara, would you mind telling us a little about yourself?” He gives her a kind look and gestures for her to take the stage. Hesitantly, she steps forward.

Elara. Elara. Elara. ‘That name… it’s beautiful.’ It seems to ring in my ears, and somehow, I know that even if a thousand years passed, even once I have become nothing but dust, I would still remember that name. ‘Always.’

*****

‘Damn it. Curses! Why oh why do I have to be in such a predicament? Am I just cursed to be really, really unlucky? Clearly so. Why is it that of all the boys in the world, it just had to be him? William. The boy I yelled at—albeit accidentally. Oh well. At least now I’ll have the chance to apologise for my behaviour yesterday. If he doesn’t already hate me. Yeah… no. I’m not that lucky.’

Everyone is watching me expectantly, waiting for me to say something. ‘What am I supposed to say again? Oh. Right. A bit about myself.’ I try to gather my thoughts and form a cohesive sentence.

“Umm… I’m Elara. But you guys already know that…” Inwardly, I scream at myself. ‘Really, Elara?! You could have said ANYTHING. And you said THAT?!’ Gods help me. Mr. Everhart—at least I think that’s his name—seems to realise that I’m hopeless and gives me a little help.

He says, “Annnd?” letting his voice trail off, hoping that I’ll pick up on the hint. Any other person would. But I don’t. Instead, I blink at him and say, “And… what?”

I barely realise what I’ve said before the class erupts in laughter, everyone smirking and talking to their neighbours. One boy isn’t laughing though. Will. He’s just staring at me with those piercing blue eyes, as though he’s silently egging me on. And that—the fact that he isn’t laughing—gives me the confidence to continue.

“I like books, music, movies, and TV shows, but not the sappy or cheesy stuff. That stuff sucks. No offense to anyone who likes that stuff. My family and I moved here a couple of months ago from England because there was an incident…” My voice catches slightly on the word, memories threatening to overwhelm me. The class is silent now, as though they all sense the gravity of my words. They’re waiting for more, and I can tell they want me to explain what happened, but I can’t. I CAN’T. I consider bolting and running all the way home until I catch Will’s gaze again, and he nods slightly, encouraging me.

I continue, my voice growing stronger, “and so my family moved here. Thank you.”

I glance at Mr. Everhart, and he smiles warmly at me. He motions to an empty desk and says, “You can sit there, Elara. Thank you for sharing.”

I smile slightly and hurry over, trying to stay small. I do that a lot, but I can still feel all the eyes on me. ‘Damn it. Why does everyone have to stare at ME? Surely there’s SOMETHING or SOMEONE else more interesting.’

Somehow, I manage to struggle through the rest of the class. I don’t look at Will again, but sometimes, I sense him watching me. He never says anything, though, so neither do I. The moment class ends, I get up, collect my things, and bolt out the door without saying a word to anyone.

I scurry through the hallway, bumping into a couple of people and muttering sorry each time. Finally, I find a door and step out into the fresh air, breathing a deep sigh of relief. Then a voice behind me startles me.

“You look like you were drowning and this is your first breath of air in forever.”

I spin around, backing up slightly. There, standing in front of me, is Will. I glare at him for a moment, then begrudgingly mumble, “I don’t like being inside.”

Will’s expression softens, and he leans in slightly to ask, “Because of the incident?”

My head snaps up, horror surging through me. He quickly says, “Relax, I don’t need to know the details, and we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But sometimes… it's good to talk about this sort of thing.”

I cross my arms and look away, grumbling uncomfortably, “Yeah, sure.”

Will sighs and seems ready to give up. He starts to move past me, and I lean forward to grab his hand. He freezes, and I freeze too. I immediately let go of his hand and quickly step back.

“I… I umm… just wanted to say sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted at you, I didn’t mean to, I just… it was just… I…” I stumble over my words and silently curse myself.

Will holds up one finger, motioning for me to stop. I can feel heat rising in my cheeks as my eyes dart around, unable to meet his as I wait for the inevitable condemnation. But Will surprises me. He says, “Elara, I accept your apology.”

Shock fills me. ‘He didn’t yell or say something mean. He… doesn’t hate me. Just another way he’s like him.’

I’m still reeling from my good luck when Will continues.

“If you consider going out with me.”

This time, I don’t even bother trying to hide my shock. I gape at him. ‘Did he just… ask ME out? He did, didn’t he? Or am I just imagining things again?’

Will is blushing almost as hard as I am now. He waves his hands anxiously as though wiping invisible windows between us. “What I meant to say is—to hang out as friends!”

I hesitate. As he waits, I think, ‘What’s the worst that could happen? He ends up hating me? I can deal with that. But if I say no, I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Besides, we just made peace.’

I nod and say, “Sure!”

Will lights up instantly, joy spreading over his face as he grins widely. He nods back, again and again, and says, “Alright. Then… I’ll pick you up at 6? We can hang out with my friends?”

For the first time in what feels like forever, a smile breaks over my face and I reply, “You bet.”

He’s still grinning as he walks past me. I see him do a small fist bump to himself, and as my eyes follow him, I find myself grinning too. Probably like an absolute fool, but for once, I don’t care.

I look up at the sky as clouds move in quickly. I whisper, half to myself and half to whatever creature is listening, “There. Are you proud of me now, William? You sent him. I know you did. You can’t be here for me, but you want me to move on. I haven’t yet. But now… maybe I can at least try.”

I start to move toward where Will is waving me over madly. Then a thought hits me, and I turn back for one last fleeting moment and say, “Thank you, brother.”

Then I turn and stroll over to where Will and his friends are waiting.

And I know, somewhere, my brother is smiling down at me. As I walk away toward a brighter future, toward new friends and hope, I hear a single, familiar sound.

Drip, drip, drip.