My shoes are soaked, my pants are soaked, my shirt is soaked
and my hair is soaked. Everything I am wearing is wetter than an ocean. My
thick black hair is clinging to my face. I am sure I look hideous but I’m not
in the mood to care. I can hear the squishing sounds that my shoes are making
against the pavement. I bet I could put fish in my shoes and they would be
fine.
I look up at the night sky and no stars are in sight. I’ve
been walking for hours and I can’t tell the difference anymore between my tears
and the rain. I wipe my face for the eighth time. I swallow and sigh. I can’t
go back, I just can’t. I keep walking down the long street. I can’t see the
streetlights in the mist of the sheets of rain pelting down. I kick the huge
deep puddles. The spray of water goes everywhere making my already wet clothes,
wetter.
No cars drive past me. There aren’t any people trying
desperately to get out of the rain. Not even birds. I can’t even see the moon.
I’m all alone on this long stretch of road. I see a worm on the sidewalk lying
still. It looks like it’s dead so I crouch down to take a closer look. There
are no other worms around as far as I can see. I touch it. The worm doesn’t
move. I am like this worm. Alone; no one cares about it. Maybe depressed, maybe
dead. It can’t do anything about its circumstances. I’m tempted to put it into
my pocket but decide against it when I think of the mess it would leave.
Instead I decide to bring it to a safer place. I carefully pick it up and put
into the grass where no one can step on it and no bird can feast on it. I step
away and smile. I wish someone cared enough about me to put me in a safe place.
Sadly, no one is even looking for me.
I continue walking down the street. My heart is heavy and my
eyes well up with tears again. I force the tears back in and sniffle. I will
not cry. I tell myself this over and over again. Their faces mock me. I push
them out of my head only for them to creep into my brain yet again. I want to
scream but I control myself. I’m not insane. I’m not crazy. I don’t have
schizophrenia.
I could use a real friend right now but I don’t have any.
Not one. They all left me. Not even a goodbye was said. No apologies either.
All I want are people who love and care about me. Is that too much to ask? I
have no one not even my dog seemed to be sad when I left. I guess I was meant
to be alone. Not sure if I like it though. Despite my feelings, I’m not going
back, not ever.
