The Rain and the Murderer

This was toxic now. He could feel a pollution seep deep into his veins. So why did it hurt so bad when it was gone. She was crazy for everything about him. He wasn't the same kind of person. he wasn't that romantic kid he was in high school, toting around the next round of "sweet nothings" notes for his current three-month love.

No, he was smarter, more adjusted, and definitely more cynical. He didn't see the stars anymore. He just saw a naked sky; void of all things magical and wondrous.

He grew up in the city; which honestly didn't help the fact that everything was mean. Everyone is hateful; even nice people. The good church-going people, that made their little secret judgements; going against everything that their church-going lives had plastered in their minds. He wasn't quite a religious man. That's not to say he didn't have a belief that something, some being made everything else; but it wasn't enough. Faith. What was that. It was blind. and he knew that he could never get past that. He could never believe entirely. He later realized that he had developed such a view in a lack of belief in his self.

He always thought that he was a good person but he knew deep down in the darkest corners of his soul that he wasn't. That he was ugly just like everyone else. But he wouldn't admit that to himself or anyone else because he was scared to. He was scared to know that among all things, he lacked faith most in himself. He was just an exoskeleton of blatant self-loathing. He was a monster.

For some reason she didn't see that, however. She saw something kind and pure in his impurity. He was worldly. He had been around and knew how things were. She tried and tried to rid herself of him but every aching bone in her body ached for him. A man that would never and could never believe in her the same as she believes in him. So she tortured herself whenever she could by just being around him. She felt disappointed in herself for even trying to justify the reason she subjected herself to such a masochistic relationship but she couldn't be without it. It hurt too much.

He didn't understand. Even then he questioned her faith in his integrity. He never understood why she saw so much good in a man that felt so lost and low that he lashed out on himself because it was the only thing he actually believed in. Nothing was sacred about it. Nothing was special about him. He would die as a nothing. He would die with no real goals achieved. No real accomplishments met. He would die a ghost.

When she finally found the courage to go to the cemetery to see him, she wiped the tears from her soaked cheeks and just got in the car and drove. She passed through small towns filled only with small populations and hole-in-the-wall filling stations. She finally reached her destination. It seemed so big in her mind, but it was only a small group of stones surrounded by dead birch trees scarcely covered in brown leaves.

The sky was gray. It was fitting I suppose, she thought to herself. It's exactly what I feel right now. She was reduced to shadow. She was a veil over a nightmare and now she had to face it with the music and everything. She parked the car on the outer road surrounding the site and sat in the car for several minutes trying to find the courage to be able to just open the door and walk. However, every time she got close enough to trying to pull the door latch, she could feel her knees shake and her legs becoming liquid. I have to. I just do. For me.

Another few minutes went by and she slowly eased the door open. Outside air hit her face like Autumn had literally punched her in the face for being so scared for so long. She put one foot out and then the other. It was almost as if she had to teach herself how. She didn't want this anymore. She never really did but this is what needed to be done. For her to live again. She started a slow pace down the dirt path towards his plot. She knew exactly where it was, even though she had never been there. It just was.

She crept up to the site noticing a few stray leaves dancing in the cold breeze and for a moment, she felt him. He was there. Joking like he did. Singing like he did. Making her think like he did. he was a spectre of emotion. She reached the head stone: Peter Strend, He will be missed. No one knew how true those words were. She had missed him so much. It had been two years since the accident. It had been two years since she died. And now she finally had to own up to what she did.



"She was in the middle of the road. She wasn't aware of the speeding Accura darting towards her like a leopard. She was trying to get the flat off. She had called me to come help her and I guess she didn't notice that I was there. I parked off the side of the road. I don't know how she didn't know I was there. It was raining loudly and as soon as I got out of my car I was soaked. The car wasn't slowing down and she wasn't moving so I ran. Sprinted. I had to. If I didn't, then everything about me, everything that I ever believed would be validated. That was a scary thought. So I ran trying to yell at her to move. Move before it was over. But she didn't understand. She just waved at me and went back to what she was doing."



"I couldn't understand him. He was yelling. But that was Peter. He was different and strange and did things like that. I started back at the tire again with the iron, turning it slowly because of the resistance that was still very evident. Then I feel his hands on my coat. They pull me up and then pulled me to the side of the road. He didn't let me go. He was slammed off of me by a car. It crushed into him going way too fast and sent him spiraling into the air. I could see him trying to gain control of himself while his body flailed around in air. When he finally landed he landed so hard on his head that I could here it smack on the pavement above the rain. I looked to see if the car had stopped and it was like it was never there. Vanished in the foggy rain. He lay there on the blacktop looking at me. I ran to him and dropped to my knees hard enough to leave bruises on them. The only way to tell that I was crying was that I could feel the tears secreting from my eyes. I could feel the warm drops down my cheeks mixing with the cold rain. He looked at me spurted out a few words. It was the last thing he ever said. He said "Don't stop looking". Then he smiled at me and let go of his life with one last breath. I sat there in a pool of his blood and wept. The ambulance came shortly after. I don't know who called them."

She tried to turn him into a hero in her mind and her stories of that day but she couldn't convince herself. She was mad at him. He killed her and then left entirely. Now she was completely convinced that she would never recover unless she told him the truth. She stood at his grave for a few seconds before she started to cry. She tried to choke back the tears but they were relentless. They inched from their cornias like poison. And then...she finally spoke.