Escape

Rain.

Rain that fell through the starlight, momentarily catching it’s light, then releasing it and being driven downwards by the spiralling wind.

Rain that stole the chill from the night, encapsulating a modicum of it in itself before releasing it onto whatever it landed on.

Rain that quickly gathered wherever it could reach, forming pools of water that allowed other drops to bounce into them and create ripples which ricocheted off one another.

And through this rain, this night, she dances.

She feels the water easily slide through her now stained and soaked nightdress, penetrating her skin, diluting her blood, forcing it’s way through her down to her bones, her brain, her heart.

The heart that had been shattered too many times, only to be rebuilt again for another demise.

Her body twists and turns, rotating, free-wheeling, gliding, floating through uncharacteristically graceful pirouettes, jumping, spinning, leaping; all a ritual of improvised expression, all to rid herself of everything, to numb every one of her emotions.

All that matters in this night is the rain that falls around her, over her and onto her.

It seems to cleanse her, to free her of anything else. All the problems seem to dissolve in the darkness, until she was the only being in existence, one with no feelings, problems, pain. Everything from the past weeks, months, years meant nothing now.

Tilting her head upwards, flinging her arms out and ceasing her movement, she just breathes, her mouth wide open, as if exhaling the last remaining remnants of her memories. All the while, the rain continues to fall, tracing all the contours of her face, her skin, just like he used to do. It goes into her mouth as well, hitting the back of her throat like ice cubes, making her cough. But she still keeps it open, allowing it to flow down her throat.

She opens her dark eyes, reflecting the star-strewn sky and the clouds which only just hid the moon from view. Her hair, just this once electively mousy brown, fell limply, having absorbed as much water as it could take and was now mechanically letting it go in drops.

Her bare feet, now beyond blue and more of a deathly grey colour, run along the tarmac street to the nearest puddle and skimm the top of the water like the stones she used to skip with her father across the pond in their back garden.

Too many memories.

Her father leaving, scared, in danger to go on the run. Would she ever see him again?
The note her husband left on the table. One telling her he couldn’t face it any longer, that he was scared for her, that he had something to do and needed to go.
The shock at losing her mentor. The one who she believed could, in some way, never die. The one who had done so much and survived it all.
The seemingly endless nights spent waiting. Waiting for him to come home again. She didn’t have to stay up, but he needed to know she would stay by him no matter what. She didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was safe.

Let it go. All of it.

The euphoric happiness and infinite perfection when she danced on her wedding night with her husband alone in the back garden, underneath the stars, that, on that night, seemed to fall onto them. Just like the rain.
The kiss by the lake, the night after they argued. The day when she thought that, somehow, everything would be alright, still being young, still full of adolescent, innocent, naivety.
The argument the night before. Everyone knew what she felt then.
The months spent in blackness. The months when nothing mattered to her at all. Like an endless version of this night, of the coldness, the numbness.

All gone.

None of that mattered any more.

Nothing.

That wasn’t worth fighting for.

But there was something there.

Something left, something worth fighting for.

And as if she needed reminding, her hands drop subconsciously to her stomach, where her nightdress clang and creased over the swollen lump there. She gasps, her breath catching on the passing raindrops, now beginning to slow down and pass on, as she feels movement over where her hands are.

That was what she lived for now.

Looking back up, she sees the clouds shift aside slightly and show the moon.

It’s full.