Midnight Rain

The cool November wind wrapped around my skin, as I walked up the cobble stone drive way of my new home. It was a small house, fit for two, with the over all color being a light blue trimmed in white. The grass was a vibrant shade of green and the roses that grew along the front of the house thrived in the sun light. Large ever green trees gave me shade against the hot rays as I put my suit case down in front of the door; ringing the door bell.

A few moments later the white door opened and showed Uncle Bill. Uncle Bill was in his late thirties. His short brown hair looked like a silk sheet. His skin was an olive color. His eyes were a pale blue with a little bit of wrinkles gathering around the edges of his eyes. He had two black diamonds on his bottom lip. He was a little taller then me; about a whole head. He had on a pair of camouflage shorts and a white wife beater. He was well built with colorful art printed on his muscles and all down his arms. He had silver circles in his ears. I knew they were gauges but I wasn’t sure the size. I knew I could stick my thumb inside of them if I really wanted to.

“Amanda Dawson.” Bill said with a smile and a small laugh in his voice. “Come on in.” He opened the door wider for me to come inside. I picked up my other suite case and stepped inside the cool house. Bill shut the door and started for the spiral stare case. Automatically, I followed. “I haven’t seen you in years, girl.” His voice became faint as I stopped and looked at the pictures that hung on the white walls. There were pictures of him, some people I didn’t recognize and my parents. I cringed as my dark blue eyes ran over a picture of my Mother holding me right after I was born. Her black locks fell to her shoulders. Her blue eyes shinned with happiness and pride as she held me in a pink bundle in her arms. My Father stood beside her his eyes shining with joy. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Amanda?” Bill called out coming to the stares. Sighing he came to where I was standing and put his hand on my shoulders. I felt my whole body tense up. I looked at him. He smiled sympathetically. “Your rooms right this way.”

I followed him down a small narrow hall way and he opened the door that was at the very end of the hall. I followed him inside and set my suit cases down and looked around. The walls were a light blue with nothing on them. A queen size bed sat next to a window with a night stand under it. There was a desk with a lap top on it and a dresser on the wall next to the door. On the bed there was green sheets, that was already fitted onto the bed, green pillows and at the foot of the bed there was a green comforter.

“I wasn’t sure what color to get.” Bill said rubbing the back of his neck. He looked around the room. I didn’t say anything but I did look around the room as well. I had some things that I could hang on the walls and things I could place on my dresser. “If you don’t like it we could take it back and get something else.” Bill said shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I like it.” I said in a soft voice. I knew he was already going out of his way for me and I didn’t want to put him out after what he has done for me so far. After all, it was my stupid decisions that brought us here today. I bit my bottom lip slightly and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Alright. I’m going to leave you to unpack.” Bill said leaving the room. I watched as the closed the door. I wasn’t sure how long he had lived by himself and what he thought it was going to be like to live with not only another person but a certified basket case.

I began my unpacking, starting with my music collection. I set my stereo on the dresser and put in a mixed CD. It had things ranging from the Misfits to things that they listened to in the fifties and to soft, slow love songs. My love for music grew and grew as time had passed. My therapist had said it would be a good therapy technique. I had only been out of the ward for a little over a month. I was still getting used to the sun shining down on my skin and the cool breeze running through my hair. I had never thought that I would have actually missed the small things that Earth had to offer. You miss a lot of things when your locked up. Though; in knowing it’s my fault that my parents are dead, I have to learn to over come many of my fears. Most of our emotions are in our head such as fear, love, hate, regret and so on and so forth. I have to concur my fears one by one, little by little. I know it would take some time but everything takes time.

Classical music filled the void of my room as I unpacked cloths, pens, paper, candles, statues of the moon and stars along with fairies and some self-drawn pictures with some posters of bands. I made sure that everything was in its place and everything was exactly how I wanted it before I slid the two suit cases under my bed. I looked in the full length mirror that hung on the back of my bedroom door. It would be easy to mistake me for a zombie. My black hair was held in the back of my head in a sloppy bun. My skin was pale; I looked like I was very ill by the paleness of my skin. My eyes had changed over the five and a half years. They used to be a light baby blue but now they are a deep, dark blue. I had lost weight. I still had a small pudge and love handles. My body stood at the short five foot four. I had my Mother’s height and apparently, Uncle Bill did too.

I opened my bedroom door and made my way down stares where Uncle Bill sat in the living room. He heard me coming down the creaky steps and put the television on mute. I sat on the couch furthest away from him. He smiled at me, I nodded my head slightly.

“So how old are you now kid?” Bill said taking a sip from his diet soda. I never understood why people drank anything diet when they didn’t need a diet in the first place. I curled my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them protectively.

“I’m turning seventeen in about a month or two.” I said quietly. Bill nodded his head and shrugged. I could tell he wasn’t uncomfortable with being in the same house as me and I chewed my bottom lip procrastinating if I should ask him the question or not.

“Nearly eighteen.” He sighed and smiled; more then likely thinking about the good days of his youth no doubt. It was evident on his face as he smiled and quietly laughed to a joke unknown to myself.

“Bill?” I asked loud enough for him to hear me. He looked at me with a small smile. “Can I ask you something?” I asked timidly. He nodded his head in approval. I felt anxiety over come me as I thought of an easy way to ask this question. My organs were pinching together making me want to vomit. My palms began to sweat as I licked my dry lips. “Are you worried about having a killer living in the same house as you?” My voice came out horse and scratchy. The anxiety levels were building up inside as I anticipated what he would say as every second passed.

“Not at all.” Bill said after a few moments passed. He leaned forward and smiled at me. I searched his eyes to try to find doubt but couldn’t. “You have a mental illness. You didn’t know about it until they put you in a psychiatric ward and were put on medication. You are not a killer, you’re just sick. I believe that you can over come this. I believe in you Amanda.” He spoke softly and looked at me with soft, kind eyes.

Could I believe him?