《It Always Rains During Gym Class》 Prologue - 5 A.M. Bus Towers that pieced through the skies, disappearing into the clouds. Immense bridges spread across large rivers. Crowds so numerous, they took on the form of waves. Bright neon lights that shone more intense than the stars themselves. It was a promise. An ideal. A wish. A longing, yearning dream. So distant and detached, it felt like a fairytale. Like an abstract concept. A world I¡¯d seen only on magazines and TV. On books and online when I visited the library. One I¡¯d heard countless stories of. Stories of a world vastly different than ours. Compared to that¡­ The endless fields lined with vegetation. The dirt roads that kicked up sandstorms when dry or sank like quicksand after the rain. The small houses built by their inhabitants. And the distant cries of farm animal. It was the same scenery I¡¯d grown up in. The same scenery I¡¯d seen all my life. Nothing changed. It always remained the same.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. And so, too, did its inhabitants always remain the same. Always the same smiles and friendly greetings. Always the same stories and conversations. Always the same songs sang during parties. Celebrated for the same reasons as always. A place where time itself seemed to have frozen. Or forgotten all about. Leaving it to continue to exist as it always had. As I grew older. As I learned more. Of our culture and of that of the distance cities. Of the world we lived separated from. I began to crave more. More knowledge. More unknowns. More change. I began to crave life in the city. Until that day had come, when I boarded the morning bus, luggage in hand. Instructions on my route written on a torn piece of notebook paper. The same notebook paper my mom would write her shopping lists on, when she would send me to gather groceries around our small town. The same paper I used all throughout school up until now. The same paper Old Man Crow sold, in that small shop close to the lake I played at with the same group of friends I¡¯d grown up with. I reached into my pocket, feeling the loose page. It filled me a strange sense of nostalgia. Of the life I would soon be leaving behind. To chase ideals. A strange, melancholic nostalgia. Sadness. Holding my tears back with my breath, I tightly gripped my luggage. And boarded the five-a.m. bus. Ch.1 - CityNight Sky As the train broke out from the dimly lit tunnel it had been traveling down, a world hued red by the setting sun exploded into my retinas. It burned so vibrantly, as if ignited by flames. Lined at its horizon, were tall, intricately designed structures of steel and glass. They looked small from so far off, yet their presence was ever as intense. In much the same way light reflects off gemstones, the brilliant, warm red of the sun¡¯s rays reflected off the distant city. It was alluring, a color which seemed to draw one to it. Almost, haunting in its beauty. The train pulled into another tunnel, and the city disappeared behind a wall of earth. With the lingering memory still burning brightly in my mind, the cart quietly rattled as it traveled down its steel tracks. Illuminated by the torch like lights that lined the walls, glowing a dim yellow. ¡­ The train arrived by night time. The subway station we got off at was brightly lit and relatively full, by my standers, giving the illusion it was still early. However, the digital clocks displayed on various LED billboards unmistakably read 9:34 p.m. We had pulled up to the station and deboarded at precisely 9:30, the exact time scheduled to arrive. It amazed me to see how punctual the trains ran in the city. Back where I used to live, a bus scheduled to arrive at a stop may be late or early by anywhere between 10 or more minutes. Not to mention, in my hometown, buses only arrived at a stop every few hours, while the trains here seemed to pull into the station one after another, continuously. With such a constant flow, that they¡¯d care more about punctuality here felt odd. Things were different here. It was beginning to dawn on me that I was in a distant place, far, far from what I knew. Everything here was so different. That feeling was beginning to sink in. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Letting it out slowly as I exhaled, I threw my luggage over my shoulder and began to walk, making my way through this maze-like labyrinth towards my exit. Perhaps it was the density of people or because we were underground, but the heat down here was unbearable. For a night in late August, it was unusually hot. I was expecting it to be cooler, I even packed a light sweater in case it got too chilly. Instead, it was hot and humid. While not enough to make you sweat, the sticky air felt gross on the skin. It made me want to hurry and get back on the surface, so that I could feel the cool night breeze once more.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. But beyond that, I wanted to finally see it. Up close, with my own two eyes. The city I dreamt so much about. A world I¡¯d never known. One of possibilities. Of change. The time had come, and I was finally here. Just beyond the rising escalator, awaited my new life. ¡­ It was breathtaking. Just outside the subway, the city unfolded before me. Tall structures, of brick and mortar, of steel and glass. Of all shapes, cuts, and architectural design. Each one vastly different than the one before it. Both modern and old, coexisting with one another. In the distance, connected to a large chapel which stuck out from the surrounding high-rise buildings, stood an antique clock tower. The clock, which must have been hundreds of years old, from an era before mine, still functioned. It hands ticking way the passage of time. It was already 10 o¡¯clock. Back home, I would have already been asleep by this time. Yet here I was, awake at this hour, in a foreign city. However, I was hardly the only one out and about at this time. The streets were brimming with people. Enough so, that it felt as if they could burst from oversaturation. Even at night, the streets were ever as alive. People of all sorts, of all different backgrounds, here for all different reasons. I had never seen so many people in one place. No. I had never seen so many people in all my life. It filled me with excitement and childish curiosity. I wanted to run around the crowded streets, to explore the vast, seemingly boundless city. I wanted to take in all the sights, all at once. But that would have to wait for another time. It was already late and tomorrow I started school. My parents had already made arrangements for a taxicab to take me to the apartment complex I¡¯d be staying at while studying here. Housing they had also arranged beforehand. My stuff should have already been sent there and would be waiting in boxes when I arrived. I pulled out the scrap piece of paper that had guided me all the way here. The cab number I needed to search for was written on it. I scanned the area for it and found it a few cars down, just off the lane for pick-ups. I grabbed my luggage and walked over to it. As soon as the driver saw my face, he instantly recognized me. And, without needed to say another word, I got in and he began to drive towards my destination. It was slightly unnerving, riding in a taxi for the first time. Unsure of how I sure act, I simply remained silent. However, the excitement outweighed the nerves, leaving little room to feel uncomfortable. As we fished our way out of the seemingly stagnant streets, the car drove up a ramp and into an elevated eight-lane road. Soon, we were zipping down the freeway at speeds I¡¯d never seen a car go at. The buildings close to us seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye, while those further away seemed to not move an inch. It created a strange mirage, as if the city was constantly morphing. Changing its shape to reveal new sides. Slowly the buildings began to merge together, as everything became indistinguishable from one another. Until they had stopped being individual structures and had become a single entity ¨C named City. ¡­ Surely, I¡¯d be unable to sleep tonight, I thought to myself as the night slowly crept along. As I made my way across the city, watching it pass me by, it was something I was certain of. As I stepped out the cab and entered a strange house, an unfamiliar room, the thought still lingered. As I laid my head down on a new bed, a sweet, familiar scent wafted off the blankets. Slightly old and well used, yet as soft and warm as ever. In this bliss mixture of fresh wonder and nostalgia, I was wrapped by its warm embrace, and lulled to sleep. Ch.2 - Endless Rain I fell out of bed, struggling to untangle myself from the sheets that wrapped around my legs like vines. I laid on the floor, staring up at the spinning blades of the fan. ¡°I don¡¯t recognize this ceiling,¡± I said to myself, half-jokingly. It was six o¡¯clock. An hour later than I was used to getting up ¨C though I could use the extra sleep. Shedding off the sheets, I stood up and shuffled toward the bathroom. Still half-asleep, I slid into the shower, letting the cool water wake me up, as it ran down my goose-bumped skin. The water here had this strange feeling to it. It felt soft, silky even. It was an unusual, yet pleasant feeling. Different from the hard water I was used to. After showering and brushing my teeth, I sat at a small dining table, eating breakfast. It was one of the few pieces of furniture in this studio apartment, which was practically one giant room, with a partial wall that separated the bedroom from the rest of the apartment, a connected bathroom, and a glass sliding door that gave access to an attached balcony. The other furniture in this apartment, apart from the table I sat at, were a sofa, a bookshelf, a bed, and an unassembled desk ¨C all brand new. The rest of the stuff, crowding the living room, where boxes that had been shipped from home, containing my belongings and a few parting gifts from some of the townsfolks. I¡¯d need to buy groceries and maybe a couple of small ornaments to decorate the place; but other than that, I had everything I needed here. I yawned, taking a slow sip of the milky hot chocolate in my mug, sinking further into my chair. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, bathing the room a soft yellow. It gave off a warm, cozy feeling, that made me feel at home, even if only for a moment. As I almost slipped back to sleep, it suddenly occurred to me how late it was. I burst out my chair, almost choking as I chugged the rest of burning chocolate in a single gulp. I through the mug into the kitchen sink and slid across the carpet toward the mountain of boxes. I rummaged through the poorly labeled boxes, reading golden eggs or fresh apples. It had saved us money to reuse these boxes, but I wished I had bothered to properly relabel them. I didn¡¯t have much time left. I needed to hurry and find my school uniform, or I¡¯d be late. I should have prepared for school last night, rather than falling asleep as soon as I arrived. Or, at the very least, I should have packed something that important in my luggage. After tearing apart half the boxes and making a huge mess, I finally found it. I changed quickly, grabbed my school bag, and ran out the door. I still didn¡¯t know my route to school, which is why I wanted to leave early. Too late for that, no point in complaining now. I¡¯d have to trust on the shabby map I drew out and my sense of direction ¨C polished from years of exploring the woods off the mountain path back home ¨C to guide me there. Or I could always just use the GPS on my phone. ¡­ I somehow managed to arrive at school, and on time to boot. Though arriving here alone was a miracle in and of itself. Both the map and the GPS failed to navigate me properly, due to construction on the roads. While frantically wondering around the streets lost, I spotted a small group of teens dressed in the same school uniform. I tailed behind them and we eventually made our way into a wide road filled with other students in the same uniform. In the distance, the stream of students flowed past a gate into the school. The school was massive, made up of a few large buildings, connected to each other through pathways, both on the ground and in the sky. The walls were a mixture of lightly colored bricks and tinted glass panels, giving the campus a modern, almost futuristic feel. The landscape, with its small trees surrounded by white stone, perfectly cut green grass, and trimmed shrubs in elevated marble planters, served only to heighten the modern aesthetic. There appeared to be a smaller building behind the school, as well as a large, open field; but the view was largely obstructed by the building at the forefront. The towering building, at three stories tall, felt almost like a miniature high-rise, and the campus like a miniature city.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. It was intimidating. For someone used to a simpler lifestyle, its mere presence was all too intimidating. ¡­ The cafeteria was crammed with students, shoving against one another as they tried to make their way toward four large boards. The names of all the students, as well as their assigned homeroom, had been written on them, divided by grade and organized alphabetically by surname. I squeezed toward the front, trying not to be suffocated by the packed crowd. Finally making my way through, I scanned the board for my grade-level. Though there was an unbelievable amount of names, thanks to the organization, I quickly found my name and room number. Room 216, in the left wing of the main building, second floor. Following the campus map, I made my way toward my room. I arrived just before the bell rang, barely making it on time. Safe, I cheered to myself victoriously. Though students were still coming into class afterward, like nothing, so maybe there was no point in rushing. Assigned seats were posted on the board, according to roll call numbers. I took my seat, toward the back of the class, next to the window. The teacher walking into the room shortly after, and class began. He started off by taking roll. As their names were called out, each student was encouraged to give a brief introduction. I kept mine simple, trying not to draw too much attention to myself. Afterward, the teacher handed out schedules to those that were present and gave a few quick announcements. Then, around fifteen minutes into class, we stood up to go to a morning assembly. An opening ceremony of sorts. The assembly was held in the auditorium, a large theater-like room, with a high ceiling, maroon carpet and seat cushions, and a stage with finished wood planks. After an hour long of teachers and student council members talking to a growingly frustrated crowd, the principal gave a closing speech and the students began to flow out the room. Classes continued right after, with students going to first period, which happened to be in the same room for me. Class ran for a few minutes shy of an hour, then students were let out once more. Pushing past one another, as they chaotically tried to make their way through the wide yet crowded hallways. Instead of staying in the same room, each class had its own room. Having the students shuffle from class to class, rather than the teachers. And each time the bell rang, the same struggle to get to the next room unfolded. By noon, we had already repeated this four times and had earned a short break for lunch. ¡­ The cafeteria was as packed as expected, so I slipped out to the courtyard behind the school to eat. It was quiet and mostly solitary, save for the occasional couple passing by, perhaps because we weren¡¯t supposed to eat out here. I sat down on a stone bench, facing a large water fountain. Compared to the rest of the school, the fountain wasn¡¯t as elaborate. Simple yet elegant, that was the best way to describe it. I packed a small lunch, a sandwich and a juice box. It wasn¡¯t much, but it still gave me an odd sense of satisfaction to eat. As I watched the fountain¡¯s water stream down its basins, a gust of wind picked up some of its mist and gently brushed it against my skin. It wasn¡¯t so bad, eating alone like this once in a while. Soon, however, I wanted to make friends. Until then, I¡¯ll enjoy this solitude. As I stood up, to go to the next class, I looked up at the sky. It had begun to grey. It seemed the rest of the day might be slightly murky. ¡­ The sky had begun to get cloudy by noon, and now, at half-past two, the world had cooled down significantly with the grey skies. The sun completely masked away. The chaotic reshuffling process had repeated another three times, until it was finally the seventh and last period. I had physical education as my last class. In a gymnasium located behind the school in a large field, separate from the rest of the buildings. Since it was still the first day, we weren¡¯t going to be doing anything physical. The coach took roll, then brought us to the locker room where we were assigned a locker and gym uniform. We then returned to the gym, where we were allowed to sit on the bleachers and talk amongst ourselves. I had begun to feel dazed by the overwhelming lifestyle here. Fast-paced, as if rushing all the time. Rushing right past me, and I had to run to try to keep up. Running, I was quickly running out of breath. The oversaturation of people that crowded around me, as I struggled to move, created a suffocating atmosphere. Yes, that was it. This whole time, I felt as if I couldn¡¯t breathe. As if I was chocking. Being asphyxiated under the weight of this new life. I stepped outside, needing to get some fresh air. The sky was murky, having been almost completely blacked out. All there was were heavy clouds, dark masses that filled the sky with their oppressive presence. I walked down the pavement, toward the tennis court. And took a seat on one of the benches placed just outside it. Slowly, the rain began to pour down. First in scattered droplets, followed by thicker, more consistent drops. Until heavy rain was pounding the pavement, hissing as it crashed against the ground. I ran back to the gym, to take shelter under its roof. The sound of the rain echoed off the open walls, being amplified into my ears. The wind pushing against the rain, mixed with the setting fog, made it hard to see more than a few feet away. Just beyond my field of vision, in the midst of the rainfall, stood an obscured figure, looking up at the sky. They brought their head down and, for a brief moment, our eyes met. Before they disappeared, swallowed up by the fog. ¡­ The rain continued into the evening. On my way back from school, I stopped by at the grocery store and returned home with a few bags. Mainly daily necessities. My windows rattled softly as the wind pushed against them and the rain pattered as it hit the glass. I ate at the table, all alone. Accompanied by the distant sound of the rain. At times it would slow down, only to pick back up with a crashing thunder. Even until the night, the rain continued. Continued over and over. Endlessly. Growing louder as it did. I laid in bed, and all other sound faded away. All, but the never-ending rain. Ch.3 - Starless Sky The rain continued without end, carrying on into the next day, and those that followed. Carrying on into the weekend, still as persistent as ever. The sound of rain tapping against glass, that¡¯s the way I¡¯ve been waking up these past few days. It¡¯s been a week now, since I came here to this city. Morning arrived, greeted by the endless rain. In a large, empty room. I sat up, rubbing my sleepy eyes. Today was the first day off school since arriving here. The first time since arriving that I could finally slow down, at least for two days. The week had past right by me. In the blink of an eye, the time it took to flinch, as it zoomed past. I chased after it, struggling to keep up. As my mind tried to process it all, unable to catch up. These past few days had been a blur. I felt dazed. Like I had been dreaming. A long dream, which I was rising from more restless than before I went to sleep. I slid out of bed. My body felt heavy, while my head felt light. It was a strange feeling, accompanied by a sharp headache, that caused me to feel off balanced. I walked robotically toward the bathroom and washed my face in the sink. On the mirror, the reflection of a tired man stared back at me. He had begun to form rings under his eyes and his face looked pale and sickly from poor nutrition. I might have been getting sick, or I was on the verge of getting so. I needed to take better care of myself. Just because I was living alone, didn¡¯t mean I could stop taking care of myself. Rather, now, more than ever, I needed to be responsible for my own self. ¡­ I brewed myself a hot cup of tea. The leaves weren¡¯t exactly the freshest or of the best quality, but the taste was still bitterly sweet ¨C the mixer of the cheap tea leaves and honey. As the tea flowed down my throat, it caused my body to feel warm inside. I slowly sipped on the coffee mug I was using as a teacup, as I reflected on the past, the present, and the future. ¡­ These past few days had gone by so quickly. That¡¯s how life was here, in the city. That¡¯s how it was going to be for me, from here on out. This was my new life. It moves so quickly, you¡¯ll be left behind. That¡¯s the feeling I got when I thought about it. Perhaps that was why, even now, it still didn¡¯t feel like I was living here. Why it still felt like a distant place, far, far away. Because even though I was here, I just couldn¡¯t adjust. I couldn¡¯t keep up, no matter how hard I tried. Life was passing by me, faster than I could process. Everything. Everything was happening around me, all at the same time. The crowded city, the crowded streets. The crowded school, the crowded halls. The crowded apartment complex I was staying at. The crowded room, I was in. The mountain of boxes felt as it could crumble at any second. As if the towering mount would collapse and bury me under. The walls felt as if they were closing in on me. Looming over me, as the room narrowed further and further. It the background, the rain, like static, roared. My ears fixated on the noise, as it became the sole sound I could hear. As the walls closed in on me, my vision fogged. Even the sound of the rain disappeared. Leaving behind only a long, continuous ring. A sharp ring that pierced my ears, resounding within me. Nauseating, causing great distress. And then suddenly¡­ I wasn¡¯t sure what happened next. A table seemed to flip over, as glass shattered against the tile. A pair of feet stomped on the floor, as they rushed forward. A door flew open. And then there was a ruptured sound, as someone poured out acid into a porcelain bowl. Fumes wafted the air, as they burned my throat. ¡­ I sat on the floor, in front of a small pile of boxes. Alongside me, there were other small piles of similar sizes. In the middle of the room was the large pile, originally a mound, the others had sourced from, now significantly decreased in size. I was sorting out the boxes into specific piles. One for the boxes that would go into my room. One for the kitchen, and the bathroom. One for the stuff that would stay out here. And one for the boxes that would be stored away. A few of the boxes were bare essentials and some personal belongings. Stuff I had packed myself. Others were kitchen utensils, dishes, cleaning supplies, and the like. Extra stuff my parents bought for me that they believed would help facilitate my move. However, the great majority of the boxes here were filled with junk I was forced to bring along with me. Parting gifts I¡¯d probably never put to use, mementos that wouldhelp me remember home, and even toys I hadn¡¯t played with since I was a kid. It made me wonder why they even bothered to send some of this stuff. They didn¡¯t seriously think I needed all this? Or were they just trying to get rid of it, get it out their house? Part of me wanted to just toss out most of it, but when I thought about how much it must have cost my parents to send this stuff over here, I felt too guilty to go through with it.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. I decided I would just store it away. And if I ever saved up enough money, I¡¯d sent the stuff back. As I sorted through the boxes, a certain object caught my attention, sticking out from a box, tearing from how overstuffed it was. Curious, I reached out and grabbed the box. Laying it in front of me, I tore off the tape and popped open the box. It was like a treasure chest inside, brimming with a wide arrangement of different things. Loose drawing, old notebooks, a compass, binoculars, preserved pinecones, withered plants contained inside plastic baggies, among other things. It was like opening up a time capsule from my childhood. Memories of theadventureswe would go on as kids, me along with my friends, began to surface. Going deep into the woods or up to the mountains. Canoeing across the lake or traveling along the river. Searching the depths of the wheat fields or the ends of the town. Monster hunting, gold mining, ruins exploring. Detectives, ghost hunters, heroes. We were everything and anything. Limited only by our minds, which never seemed to be scarce on imagination. There was an old hat among the things in the box, myexplorer cap, smushed under a stack of picture books. A pale green fisherman hat, decolored overtime due to its age. Worn out and with a few holes. And it was so small, tiny compared to my current hat size. Obvious as that may be, it still surprised me to think my head was once that small. I dug further into the box, as memories continued to flood my mind with every new object I rediscover. Among them, there was a large, rolled-up sheet of paper, that seemed to be made out of a special type of material. I spread it out across the floor. It was a map, a treasure map of sorts. The map itself was a general outline of our town and the landmarks around it. Written across the bottom in cursive were clues, simple in their mystery, that helped guide to the final destination,marked by an Xas the last clue indicated. This so-called treasure map, most likely, was created by one of the adults in town. My memories surrounding it weren¡¯t very clear, but I remembered we spent an entire summer trying to solve this mystery. It was the highlight of that summer and it must have been incredibly fun. If so, why were my memories so hazy? In the end, I wonder if we ever found the treasure. I dug further into the box, until I reached the end. The last item in the box, right at the bottom, was a picture frame. Having been buried underneath the weight of everything else, the glass frame had cracked from the pressure. I lifted it out slowly, being careful with the cracked glass. Using my sleeve, I brushed off the dust collected on it, to reveal the picture underneath. It was of two boys, one with long, dirty-blonde hair and another with similar length, black hair. They were both barefoot, soaked, and covered in mud. They were standing on a wooden dock overlooking a lake, holding a large fish, big enough that they both had to hold it with two hands. The blonde kid had a smile from ear to ear while the other gave a proud, almost smug expression. I remembered this day. My friend, the black-haired kid, and I, the blonde, had both joined a fishing competition. Held annually, for kids, alongside a more professional one for the adults. We weren¡¯t exactly good fishers, or rather, we didn¡¯t know how to fish at all. I could set up a fishing pole and cast it, but I didn¡¯t have any idea what to do if I actually caught something. On the other hand, he didn¡¯t know the first thing when it came to fishing. He had absolutely zero clue what he was doing, yet he was still confident we¡¯d win the competition. It was his idea we should join, he was the one that signed us up and prepared everything for that day. And when he saw that we weren¡¯t catching anything, he was the one who decided we should jump into the lake and catch a fish with our own hands. Soaked and muddy, losing our hats and shoes along the way, we somehow managed to catch and drag a large fish out the water, off the bank, and up a rocky hill back toward the dock. All while it frantically flopped around, trying to escape or bite our fingers off. Of course, we didn¡¯t win. We were disqualified for breaking the rules. Yet we were still able to catch the biggest fish that day, and in that, he took great pride. And along with him, I too felt joy. He was my best friend. From the first day I met him, in elementary school, he had been my best friend. We did everything together. We spent every day together. He was like a brother, perhaps even closer. Yet¡­ how long has it been since I last spoke with him? A month? Maybe two. Maybe more. We had a fallout. A huge argument. I thought we would eventually resolve it. Around that time, I was already planning on coming to the city to study. When he found out about that, he swore he¡¯d never speak to me again. I left without even saying goodbye. ¡­ I finished storing away the last box. There was so much stuff I filled both the coat closet by the entrance and my own closet with boxes. I had to place the last few boxes in the extra storage room outside, next to the balcony. I leaned against the railing, looking out at the night cityscape. It wasn¡¯t exactly the intricate high-rise buildings of downtown, it was a residential area after all, but it still had that city feel to it. Whatever that was supposed to mean anyway. The rain had finally let out, for the first time in the week I had been here. I was a new world entirely, different from the dry one I had witnessed the first day I arrived, and the rain filled one I had begun to grow accustomed to ¨C yet could never fully get used to. The world was still wet, from the rain that had just passed. The roofs were dripping, and you could still hear the sound of water running down gutters as they tried to drain themselves. When the wind would pick up, it¡¯d ruffle the leaves of trees, and waterdrops would dance off and tap against the roofs of cars parked underneath. In the distance, you could hear the sound of tires tearing apart puddles on the road as they passed through. Along with chirping birds, who had come out to feed on the worms, which, excited by the rain, had crawled up to the surface of the grass. The city was as lively as ever, only growing more so with the passing rain. Earlier, I almost had a mental breakdown from the stress of my new life here. But when I looked out at this view, the prospects of the future didn¡¯t seem so dim. If only the city could slow down a little, it truly would be a beautiful place. Who knew, perhaps I would never be able to fully adjust to life here. Perhaps each day would only be filled with stress and anxiety, stacking on top of one another day after day, until I finally snapped, unable to take any more. The fact was, I couldn¡¯t go back. I couldn¡¯t return to the small town I came from. That was no longer an option, it stopped being so the second I decided to leave. Among several reasons, I simply couldn¡¯t return. It was as if, I felt, I wouldn¡¯t be welcomed back if I was to return. As if I no longer had a place I belonged there. I could no longer call that town home. This, right before me, was my new home. Even if I¡¯d never feel a sense of belonging here either, this was my new life. The one I had chosen myself. This view was beautiful; yet why, when I looked up at the sky, it appeared to be so dark. The small, dim moon, almost invisible compared to the lights of buildings and streets. Being drowned out by the city lights. Insignificant in its faded glow. I still remembered the vast skies, illuminated by brilliant stars that shone like fire in the night. The breathtaking beauty of the sky I had taken for granted. Along with everything else, I too had lost that. Left now with this empty sky, devoid of light. Perhaps a perfect representation of my current state, the lone, fading moon. As if hoping on the impossible, as if knowing full well it was all in vain, I closed my eyes¡­ ¡­and wished upon this starless sky. Ch.4 - Start of Fall I stretched my arms up high, stretching as far as I could. Then brought them down, bending at the waist so that I could reach my feet. I was pretty flexible, so I could reach them with ease. Despite my wavering health, I still retained my flexibility. We had all lined up outdoors, in an opened space just outside the football field. Today, the class would be running the mile. It was a monthly event, normally held on a Friday; though we were running it a few days late, on Monday, due to recent weather. In most normal high schools, students would spend a good portion of gym class outdoors, however, since it was always raining here, we spend most of the time indoors, in the gymnasium. Today was one of the few days it wasn¡¯t raining, as such, it was one of the few days we could hold gym class outdoors. The weather wasn¡¯t exactly clear, but it shouldn¡¯t rain until later today. Which meant we weren¡¯t getting out of running this time. It¡¯s been a month now, since school started, here in this city. The days had begun to cool, as summer was coming to an end. Fall was just around the corner. Said to bring with it more rain. After the class finished stretching, the coach opened the gates to the football field and we began to walk inside. In order to make the most use of limited space, a track had been built around the perimeters of the football field. Approximately four laps around the red, multi-lane track equaled one mile. I had never run a mile before, at least on a track ¨C thought I may have run more before without even realizing. I used to be relatively active, but ever since moving here, I haven¡¯t really been doing much of anything. Before this might have been a breeze, but now, it seemed quite the daunting task. Looking at how wide the field stretched out, I wondered if I could even do it. The sky was partially cloudy, but none of the clouds were covering the sun. It seemed we would have to run the mile under its blazing rays. I would just have to hope the wind would blow and drift a cloud over the sun, casting shade over the track. As unlikely as that were to happen. Everyone lined up at the starting line, to begin running the mile. There was no time limit in which you had to finish, but after a set time it would no longer count as passing. Though, you could only get that bad of a time if you walked the whole thing. As long as I put in some effort, I should be fine. Even so, I didn¡¯t want to be one of the last ones to finish. The coach blew her whistle, signaling the start of the run. I kicked off the ground and took off sprinting. At first, I was doing a good job of keeping up with the group at the front ¨C save for a few overachievers. But slowly, I began to fall further and further behind. With each passing lap, I¡¯d fall further toward the back. I tried to keep up, forcing myself to sprint faster, panting as I breathed irregularly. I puffed my chest in an attempt to get in more oxygen, yet still felt as if I was suffocating. I slowed my pace, as my head began to buzz. My limbs felt numb and my body light. My vision was hazy. The people passing me by all seemed like a blur. And, to a degree, I felt disorientated. Even so, I continued to move forward, dragging my feet, unsure of why I was even doing so. It didn¡¯t even feel like I was walking anymore, I felt as if I was floating, in a ghostly fashion. Despite my numbed senses, I could still feel my chest, pulsating, feeling as if it was about to burst. It hurt. I hurt just to breathe. Every breath felt painful. Feeling as if I was going to collapse, I came to a complete stop. I bent my knees, placing my hands against them for support as I leaned forward. I tried to take in deep breaths, to re-stabilize, but doing so proved to be difficult. Just as I began to sink into despair, the sky darkened and water droplets began to fall. Not slowly nor gradually, but, all at once, pour from the sky. My body, once covered in sweated, had, in seconds, become drenched by the rain. I cooled as rain ran down my exhausted body. I stood up straight, with difficulty, still panting, and tried to look around. Hazed figures scattered in the distance, and I could hear disassociated voices shrieking, screaming, complaining about the rain. An older sounding voice, the voice of the coach, seemed to be directing them, but I couldn¡¯t make out the words. Nor the direction the sound was coming from.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. And then¡­ I collapsed. ¡­ I opened my eyes slowly. My body felt heavy, my muscles tense. I was disorientated and wasn¡¯t sure where I was. I wasn¡¯t sure how I had gotten here, nor what I was doing before. White curtains surrounded me on all sides, except the back ¨C which was a wall. The bed I laid on was covered in white sheets and had an unusual stiffness to it. It was almost like those at a clinic. I tried to sit up slowly but was instantly met with a sharp headache. It felt as if I was being stabbed by tiny needles. I cried out in pain, as I pressed my hand over the part of my head that was aching. ¡°Don¡¯t sit up¡­¡± said a voice, as one of the curtains was drawn open. On the other side was a girl, with short black hair and brown eyes, wearing a dark tracksuit. Her voice was light and had a timid tone to it. ¡°Sit back down, you¡¯ll feel better.¡± I followed her instructions without really questioning anything. Despite still feeling disorientated, I felt as if I would be okay if I did as she said. Perhaps it was her demeanor or the softness of her voice, but she had a strange way of inspiring trust in others. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± she asked. I shook my head, too tired to respond properly. ¡°Here, take this,¡± she said, handing me a pill and a glass of water, ¡°It¡¯ll help with the headache.¡± I swallowed the pill in one gulp, but continued to gulp down the rest of the water in the cup. ¡°If you¡¯re still thirsty drink this, it¡¯ll replenish your electrolytes and carbohydrates¡± she said, as she handed me a bottled sports drink. I drank from it, this time slower. The cool drink refreshed my throat, as beads of condensation ran along the outside of the bottle. ¡°Do you remember what happened?¡± I did, or at least I was starting to. I had passed out while running the mile. It seemed someone had carried me to the infirmary while I was unconscious, and, judging by the school uniform I was wearing, had changed me too. That thought caused me to become embarrassed. As if noticing, she spoke up, ¡°D-don¡¯t worry! It was the nurse that changed you. She¡¯s out right now so I¡¯m sitting in for her.¡± Her cheeks were flushed and her voice flustered, as if she was feeling embarrassed for me. I smiled as best I could, trying to ease her nerve. Or perhaps that wasn¡¯t the real reason. Perhaps it was natural, out of happiness. A genuine yet weary smile. But when I thought about it, it was sad. This was the first conversation I had had with someone since coming here. The first time smiling in a long time. ¡­ Somewhere along our conversation, I was overtaken by the exhaustion and drowsiness and drifted back to sleep. When I awoke, it was already five in the afternoon. She had left, of course, but it didn¡¯t seem as if the nurse had come back yet. As I awoke, I noticed almost immediately that it had gotten warmer. Or rather, I had gotten warmer. I was wearing a jacket, the same kind she had on. There was a note sticking out from one of the pockets. I pulled it out and unfolded it. It¡¯ll be fall soon, keep warm. ¡­ That was on Monday¡­ it was Friday now. The week had come and passed. Another meaningless, empty week. Eventful, in the sense that it was as chaotic as ever. Yet it was all still the same, every day was the same. Day after day, I only grew more tired and weak. I¡¯d come to hate this place, this city. The longer I stayed here, the more bitter I became. The illusion had long since shattered, and now I laid on the ground covered in its shards. They tore into me, and I was slowly bleeding out. Why¡¯d I even come here? Or rather¡­. I can¡¯t even go back. If so, where do I go? What do I do? Should I just¡­ I was torn away from these thoughts, as my phone began to ring. Without bothering to check the caller ID, I picked it up feebly and faintly spoke into the phone. ¡°¡­hello¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s been a while¡­ Finn.¡± I recognized that voice, how could I not? That familiar voice, I wished I didn¡¯t have to hear right now. I was filled with dread, as I carefully chose my next words. ¡°It really has, hasn¡¯t it¡­ Dad.¡± Reflective of his personality, he talked with a soft voice, slowly as he always had. ¡°Your mother¡¯s ¡®ere too, I¡¯ll put ¡®er on speaker.¡± He had a thick country accent, the kind you hear in the movies; but his slow manner of speech made it easy to understand what he was saying, even to those that weren¡¯t used to that accent. ¡°Finn, are you there?¡± said a different voice, a lighter yet sharper voice, the voice of my mother. ¡°Hey, mom¡­¡± ¡°How have you been? It¡¯s been so long? Have you been busy? Why haven¡¯t you called? How¡¯s the city? Are you adjusting alright? Are you eating properly? Your voice sounds weak, are you getting sick? Are you already sick? Are you taking medicine¡­¡± I was bombarded with a continuous rain of questions. Before I could answer the previous question, she had already asked a new one. I had to answer with simple hums ¨C hm and mh-hmm. I had made the mistake of letting my exhaustion show in my voice, not to mention I hadn¡¯t called them since moving here, of course she would be worried. Even so, this level of worrying was uncalled for. It was the first time I had heard here like this. Her voice sounded frantic and unstable. It was my fault. I¡¯m the one who caused her to feel like that. Just how selfish was I, this whole time I had only been focused on my own problems. Even before coming here, I hadn¡¯t even considered how it would make them feel. I had only cared about what I wanted. I changed the tone of my voice, forcing myself to speak in a cheerful manner. I answered all her questions, addressed each of her concerns, and his as well. I told them everything was alright, that I was fitting in perfectly and living a fulfilling life here. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest,¡± I lied, ¡°classes are hard,¡± holding in my anxieties and frustrations, ¡°and at times it can be a little overwhelming,¡± hiding my insecurities and chocking back my tears, ¡°But you know what¡­¡± Forcing a smile, as a single tear escaped my left eye. ¡°I¡¯m happy.¡± Ch.5 - First of the Season Today marked the first day of autumn. The season had just begun, and already the days were cooler. The morning dew lingered longer. The daylight was shorter, and night came sooner. The leaves on trees were still green, but not for much longer. Soon they would lose color, turning shades of brown and orange, grow brittle, and fall off. Leaving the branches barren, lifeless. Soon, the world around me would begin to die. ¡­ As usual, I hadn¡¯t spoken to anyone since then. Nothing had changed that day, as expected. I tried searching for that girl, to return the jacket, but among the thousands of students, I failed to find her. It was as if she had been consumed by the endless sea of faces, like casting a pebble into a lake, never to be found again. Strangely, though perhaps reasonably, it seemed no one even remembered I had passed out. It wasn¡¯t like I ever stood out much, even after the scene I must have caused. At the end of the day, I too was just another face in this sea. Which made me wonder, that conversation, did she even remember it? To me, it meant so much, just to be able to talk to someone. Yet to her, it must have been just another interaction. That, too, was only reasonable. I was the lonely one after all. Realizing that¡­ it made me feel pathetic. ¡­ I searched once more. Today was the last day, I had told myself, that I would try to find her. After that, I would give up. It was just a jacket, after all. Had she really wanted it back, she would have looked for me. I slipped out during PE and went to walk around the area. Based off the design, the jacket was most likely gym related. Perhaps not Physical Education, as our uniforms were much different, but it could always be from athletics or strong body ¨C two of the other choices one could pick as a gym class. That said, I hadn¡¯t seen anyone else wearing this kind of jacket, even among those in the other gym classes. It was possible that this jacket wasn¡¯t part of a uniform, but rather a special jacket made for a single person. If that was the case, tracking down the owner became that much more impossible. Not to mention, it made it less reasonable that she would have just left something like this with me. But, at the same time, if that was the case, that was a clue towards finding the owner. Of course, that would mean I¡¯d have to ask around if anyone knew or had seen someone with this sort of jacket. And¡­ that was something I was incapable of doing. I was far too shy to be able to do something like that. ¡°It¡¯s impossible,¡± I sighed, ¡°It¡¯s best to just give up.¡± ¡­ In the end, I failed once more to find the owner. I knew her face and I knew she had a gym class at this time ¨C how else would she have been around to help tend to me when I passed out. And even with that information, I still couldn¡¯t find her. Instead, I found myself, somehow, wandering to the far end of the campus, where the open field ended at a cliff. There was a simple wooden fence to guard the edge, at stomach height, meant to protect people from falling off. It was a stylish fence, pleasant to the eyes and tying in well with the overall design of the school; but as a guardrail, it was hardly practical.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. I placed my hands on the fence and lightly shook it. It seemed sturdy and, being the prestigious campus it was, it obviously complied with the safe codes of the city. Even so, I just couldn¡¯t bring myself to trust it. Perhaps, rather than the fence itself, that was a result of years of coming across safe-looking wooden structures while exploring back home, only for them to crumble at a touch. Like some sort of hidden trauma that made me subconsciously distrust wooden fences. I peered off the edge. It dropped off some 20 odd feet. While mostly slanted irregularly, a good 10 of those feet were a straight ninety degrees angle. That alone wouldn¡¯t have been too bad, but what really made this cliff so dangerous were the sharp rocks scattered at the base of the cliff. It went without saying, a fall from here would be fatal. Just beyond the cliff, and past the rocks, the city skyline unfolded before me. Countless residential houses that slowly transformed into sky-bound buildings. Clouds casted over the buildings, stretching out across the entire sky. They seemed to slowly be enveloping the city, like a blanket of thick, dark wool. Suddenly, a strong gust pushed against me, sending me stepping back. My hair blew about wildly, as the strong wind, as well as the strands of hair that blew into my face, made it hard to see. I raised my arm over my eyes to block the wind, as I turned my face away. As I did, my eyes were met with an unexpected sight. There was someone standing behind me, just a few feet away. A girl, with long black hair that danced chaotically in the wind. She had narrow, reddish-amber eyes and a straight face, that seemed unfazed by the gust. She was wearing a fall gym uniform, with a track jacket tied around her waist. The sleeves and loose ends of the jacket floated in the air, as the wind lifted them up. She had a strong presence, which stood out even against the landscape of the area. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that the scenery, the gust of wind, and the way her hair and jacket danced in it, all existed only to complement her. This moment, now, in time. This strange, fairytale-like moment. This unusual string of events. Like a fated meeting orchestrated by a higher power in some grandiose story. Captivated by this moment in time, all I could think was this sole word, as it escaped my lips in a single breathe. ¡°Beautiful.¡± ¡­ We sat at a wooden table, covered overhead by a canopy. I was torn away from the moment abruptly as a shower of rain came pouring down. We both ran to this canopy close by to take shelter. We had been fortunate enough to get a few seconds to run to cover before the rain began to come down hard. That said, the fact alone that we had gotten stuck out here in the rain was anything but fortunate, as neither of us was carrying an umbrella. For now, we were safe and dry, but class would eventually end and we would have to walk back to the locker rooms. And judging from how hard it was raining, it didn¡¯t seem like it would stop anytime soon. I was turned facing away from her, as I looked out at the distant city, now engulfed in the rain. It really had a way of changing the atmosphere, the rain that is. When I remembered how the rain drenched the apartment buildings, making the already dark walls more opaque, and how the clouds concealed the sun, casting a grim darkness over the city, the rain felt almost ominous. Perhaps, even, melancholic or oppressive. However, this time, it almost felt, somehow, different. No, it truly was different. Even as the rain roared, crashing against the grass as if it were asphalt, violently pounding the roof of the canopy. Even so, there was something oddly different about the rain this time. The way it flowed off the ends of the canopy, the serene sound it made as it passed through the trees, leaving behind beads of rain on the leaves. ¡°Beautiful,¡± she muttered, softly to herself. While her expression remained neutral, her eyes were transfixed on the rain, as if hypnotized by an enchantress. ¡°It¡¯s the first of the season¡­ the first shower of fall.¡± Here, underneath a canopy, sitting next to a stranger, I shared this wonderful moment. Basked in it. I could close my eyes and just listen¡­ feel¡­ letting my senses soak it in. A pure, unadulterated sensation. A raw sensation, that shook the core. Without needing to talk. Without needing to say a word. Merely experiencing it. Together. Losing ourselves in it. ¡­ Eventually, the rain slowed down enough for us to make our trip back to the gym. By then class had long since ended. Captivated by the moment, we hadn¡¯t even noticed. As we walked back, with the sky still sprinkling down unevenly, we shared a few words. It wasn¡¯t much, you could barely call it a conversation. As we slowly walked side by side, without even looking at one another. ¡°Your name?¡± ¡°Finn.¡± ¡°Marilyn.¡± ¡°You¡¯re new, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yea.¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°Hey¡­ we should hang out again.¡± ¡°Yea?¡± ¡°Yea.¡± For the first time, since running into her back at the cliff, she turned to look at me and our eyes made contact. Her amber eyes, with flecks of red and gold. Like staring into the gemstone itself. So narrow and cold, and yet so brilliant. ¡°Okay, cool. It¡¯s a promise. Then¡­ see ya¡¯ around.¡± Saying that, she turned around and ran on ahead, disappearing into the gymnasium. I stayed behind, without even having gotten to properly say bye. Once more, a gust picked up. I shivered, as the wind blew against my wet cheeks. I let out an awkward breath, halfway between chuckling and exhaling¡­ And smiled.