AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It's raining, as it often is on this island.
And for some reason, instead of crabbing a cab or calling an Uber, I'm walking down this road home, completely dripping wet.
Or maybe I do know why I’m out here walking in the rain. It's a walk born of frustration, of disappointment with the trajectory of my life.
My senior year has been one grueling disappointment after another lately.
There's the fact that my father convinced me to go to the mainland to meet him for dinner last night, and forced me to take the ferry, which he knows damn well I hate. When I got to the restaurant, he wasn't even there, never even bothering to pick up his phone when I called.
There have been lots of times where my father has disappointed me. But for the most part, those were done from the safety of my home. So I could stand with my nose pressed against the glass, waiting for his truck to appear. And when it didn't, I was at home so at least I had my mother to comfort me.
This was the first time that I hadn’t been at home when he hadn't shown up. I’d stood by the dock just watching. Finally, I tried to call him, and then it was like I couldn't stop. I kept calling and calling and calling…and he never picked up. Didn’t even bother sending me a text to explain his no show. I’d had to take the ferry all the way back to the island, his rejection a living, breathing thing under my skin for the entire trip.
Then there’s also the fact that somehow I’ve become Kyle's girlfriend. I don’t know how it happened, only that he’s gotten into his head when school started that I’m somehow his. Not that we’re having sex, or doing anything besides the occasional kissing. But he's everywhere, suffocating me with his nearness. With his mere presence.
It’s not supposed to feel like this. I'm confident of that. Even though everyone tells me that I'm so lucky to have such a good looking, popular, nice guy by my side, for the life of me, I can’t see the benefits to it.
Sometimes I wonder if watching my parents’ marriage fall apart broke me in a way, that those important younger years that form the basis of your personality were skewed because the one person in the world that was supposed to love us no matter what, never loved us enough.
Regardless of the reason, I'm walking in the rain, the mud sloshing on my boots. I'm not exactly sure where I'm going, but I know I just need to get away.
Some writers talk about the rain being cleansing, and I try to imagine all of my inner angst sliding down my body and onto the ground, fluttering away so it can’t burden me anymore.
It doesn't seem to be working.
A flash of gold catches my attention, and I glance over to the right to see that I'm passing the island’s cemetery. The gold flashes again and I pause, trying to see what it is, only for the rain to let up a little and reveal Noah on his knees in front of a small gravestone.
Maybe I'll look back at this moment and wonder if it was when I truly lost my mind, but I find myself walking towards the opening in the fence line, towards where he kneels.
Maybe it's his sadness calling to me, causing an inexplicable pull that I can't ignore.
He doesn't look up as I approach, even though my feet are sloshing in the puddles made by the falling rain. He's the only one here that I can see, and for a second, a morose thought crosses my mind—would anyone fall on their knees in sorrow for me if I was buried here?
I don't stop walking until I’m right next to him. The stone has his mother’s name engraved on it, and Noah doesn't shy away from the fact that his body is trembling as racking sobs fill the air, joining the gentle patter of the rain.
The rain doesn't feel cleansing right now; it feels like the earth has joined him in mourning his mother. It's a terrible thing to see this beautiful boy pouring out his sorrow for someone who is no longer here.
"Noah," I finally whisper, so quietly that I’m surprised he can even hear it. But as soon as I say his name, he glances up at me, his tears sliding down his face, mixing in with the rain streaking across his skin.
"It's her birthday," he murmurs. “She was always big on birthdays. When I was little, I promised her that she would never spend a birthday alone. That I would always spend the day with her. I promised.” He shifts from his knees and sits cross legged on the cold, wet ground.
I want to offer some words of comfort. Anything, really. But before I can get anything out, he starts to talk.
"My dad was gone a lot growing up. Your mom was able to do what my mother never could— keep him around. He would go fishing for days, but one particular year he promised he would be back in time to celebrate her birthday. I remember walking down the hallway and seeing her standing in the kitchen, her hair all done and makeup on her face, a slight glow to her cheeks. She was so excited for him to come home."
He rips out some of the grass in front of him.
"Then the hours passed. They passed and they passed, and he never walked through the door. I remember someone knocking, and her jumping up from the couch, just in case, I guess, my dad had lost his keys or something like that. And when she opened it up, it was just to see that a package had been delivered. It wasn't even a package for her. It was some fishing line my dad must've ordered before he left. She looked so fucking sad sitting on the couch."
He shakes his head, biting down on his bottom lip so hard he breaks through the skin. Drops of blood drip down the front of his face. I find myself reaching up, rubbing at the crimson drops with my thumb.
"She went to take a nap finally, I guess hoping she could just sleep away the day. And even though I was only nine, I still went into the kitchen and tried to make her a cake. It was a complete failure, of course. I burned myself at least twenty times, and it was burnt to absolute shit when I pulled it out. But you should've seen her face, Sky," he whispers, his eyes wide and staring unseeingly, like he's back in the kitchen right that very second. "She looked at that cake like it was a work of art. Like it was the best thing she'd ever seen. I had one candle on there and she let me light it, and then listened as I sang to her with tears streaming down her face. And I promised her that day that as she ate my terrible cake, that she'd never be alone on her birthday."
His fingers trace her etched name on the stone. "So here I am."
By this time, tears are falling down my face, because I can just imagine a little golden haired boy making a mess of the kitchen in order to bring a smile to his mother's face.
"Did your dad ever come home that day?" I ask hoarsely.
