Rainy Days

By , Beverly Hills, CA
I sit at my window staring at the rain. It pounds on the roof and I can hear it loud and clear. The lightning strikes and I jump, everytime, although I expect it. Then the thunder crashes and my dog, Sunflower, whimpers. He stuffs his head underneath my legs, and starts to shiver.

Lilly runs into my room, crying about the noises. She's only two years old and is afraid of anything foreign. I'm 13, so I can comfort her.

She climbs onto my bed and snuggles with Sunflower. I sigh and look out the window once again. A car passes. It's red, and small. Just like mom's car. But it's not her.

Every rainy day I look out the window, waiting for mom to come home. She went to Key West. She said that when it rains and gets nasty, then she'll leave Key West. So every rainy day I wait for her to come home in her red mini-cooper. But she never comes.

Dad comes home and finds me in my room, looking out the window. He knows what I'm doing, but says nothing. He's ashamed of mom. She left two days after Lilly was born. She said it was to visit her dying sister. But her sister has already died. And in two years, she still hasn't come back.

My dad won't look for her, or drive down to Key West. He won't talk about her. All he does is cry in his room at night. It only lasts five minutes, but it's enough to make an impact.

Lilly has no idea what's going on. To her, I'm her mommy. And one day, she'll understand what really happened.

But now, I sit here and watch the rain fall. It gets darker outside with every passing moment. And the thunder gets louder, and the lightning gets more constant, and brighter.

Lilly cries and Sunflower shivers. I lay back in my bed and hold them in my arms. It's okay, Mommy will come back, I promise. That's what I want to say, but I say nothing because all I can do is be the mother and make sure Lilly and Sunflower are all right.





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