The Rain

On my way home, I get caught in a light shower. For others, it’s a drag, but for me, it’s my comfort zone. I put on my headphones and step into another dimension. I spot a park bench facing the grass and trees. I guess I just like watching the different animals appear—a personal show just for me.

But this time, a woman appears. Her arms are stretched out, and her eyes are closed, completely accepting the rain. Her curls are drenched, but who cares? She is lost in the moment, and so am I.

Later that night, as I lie in bed, my thoughts are still stuck on that scene from the evening. She was beautiful. I’m not just talking about her caramel skin or her natural curls soaked by the rain; I mean her presence. In that moment, I could swear I was in her world. My whole life, I’ve wondered what freedom and free will actually look like. Just by looking at her, I received more answers than questions.

Days pass. Many rainy days come and go, but that specific day remains ingrained in my vision. Eventually, on one of the hottest days of the summer, I decide to go back to that park and that bench, hoping to run into her again.

After waiting a while, I realize I've never fully noticed the beauty in the simple things. I see squirrels chasing each other, rabbits dashing through the grass, and even a fox appears. But what fascinates me most is a line of ants carrying food and supplies back to their home. No matter the form, we’re all just trying to survive in this chaotic world.

As night falls, I walk back home, totally forgetting why I came to the park in the first place. I got mesmerized by something else, though the girl is still on my mind. I get lost in thought and drift to sleep.

The next day, on my way to work, I take the train. Everyone is glued to their devices, not noticing or speaking to one another, but they seem happy enough with it. A few people standing with headphones on look like they’re having a silent dance contest against each other—it’s actually pretty funny when you think about it. It doesn't bother me; it's harmless. Across from me, a guy is being incredibly persistent about trying to get the number of the girl sitting right next to me. It brings a faint smile to my face.

Hours later, while clocking out, a news alert pops up on my phone. The train I rode this morning is delayed. Someone was stabbed in the chest. A guy wanted her number, but she was busy on her phone, so he stabbed her. That news bums me out for a minute.

I decide to walk home. Walking alone can be unsafe for anybody, but I’ve done it so many times that it doesn't faze me anymore. Past the gangs standing in front of the corner stores, through the awkward stares—I’ve become completely numb to it all.

Seeing those guys always triggers a memory. There was this one time I was walking with a girl, and she was being catcalled pretty aggressively. She panicked, begging me to just take her home. Later on, I found out she ended up dating one of those same gang members, got strung out on drugs, and is currently doing time for robbery. Ain't that funny? But anyway.

A few blocks later, I run into an opossum with her babies clinging to her back. With her eyes wide, she just stares at me. Another soul just trying to survive in this world. It brings a faint smile to my face, quickly followed by a heavy realization: I know her presence will frighten someone. They might end up killing her, or someone will run her over.

When I arrive home, I have no appetite for a big meal, so it’s ramen for me tonight. As I look for a pot to boil water, I check my phone and see a trending video. A guy is pointing a gun at an opossum. The twisted thing is, the opossum doesn’t even attack; it just takes the threat. But the guy kicks it, knocking one of the babies off her back. The opossum looks for a split second, and then she attacks. The guy falls, and the opossum bites and scratches him. Everyone holding a phone is laughing while one of his friends kicks the animal off. Embarrassed, the guy shoots the opossum, killing it. Everyone scatters, and the video ends.

You want to know how I feel about it? You want to know the darkness of that moment? The beauty of everyone being there together, laughing and joking and existing, is completely ruined because a being—just because it exists in a different form—was told it doesn’t have the right to exist with them. The babies probably won't survive without their mom.

My pot is boiling. Shrimp-flavored ramen. I have some leftover chili, so I add that to it. Toasted garlic bread, too. That’s it—my dinner for the night.

Later, as I lie under the covers staring at my phone, the news of the day's violence is highlighted in my brain. I try to clear my head, but no matter how many funny videos I watch, the violence keeps flashing back. Like a time-lapse I can't control, my eyes move rapidly beneath my eyelids.

A sudden crack of thunder breaks the trance, startling me. I put the phone down, but the loop of the video where the guy kills the opossum keeps playing in my head. I finally break.

I run out of the house at full speed, straight into the pouring rain. It’s too much. All of it is just too much. The world slows down, my head spins, and my heart feels like it’s going to explode. Clutching my chest, I fall unconscious.

Somehow, I end up back on the park bench. I slowly open my eyes. The girl from before is standing right over me, drenched in the rain, and she is the very first thing I see.

She smiles and asks, "Have we met before?"

The rain creates puddles in my eyes that mimic tears. I smile faintly.