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Heart pounding faster than I’ve ever imagined, I stand here completely incapable of thinking any clear thoughts. My stomach is causing me tremendous pain, almost as though I’m about to vomit all over him right now. My limbs shake uncontrollably, as if cold, although it is 80 degrees. When I gain consciousness and notice the light sound of the raindrops on the roof above me, I manage to blink once or twice, only to find out that I’m actually not crying. I can’t imagine how this is possible. I think maybe that once the shock value wears off, I’ll manage to squeeze out some tears. Just maybe.

Before I can think straight, I turn around and dash for the closest room and shut the door behind me. The room is decorated with beautiful furniture, but I only notice a bed to my left, a window directly in front of me, and a desk to my right. On the desk is a computer, a stapler, a pair of scissors, some tape, and a few pens.

I decide to sit on the bed and stare out the window. As I am looking out the window, to my surprise, I am analyzing what I see. A few trees gently sway in the soft summer breeze. A crystal clear pond reflects the light of the moon. It looks gorgeous against the indigo skies. I’m looking at the skies and watching individual raindrops; from the moment they come into my field of vision until they hit the ground. One by one, I watch their journey as they make their way to their fate.

I turn my attention to the window directly in front of me. The rain looks so inviting, so I try to open the window as a way to reach out. It’s locked. Unlock it? Doesn’t work. The window is stuck closed. The more I think about it, the more I consider the idea that the window was never meant to open. I carefully examine the window and its construction, and conclude that it’s forever sentenced to remaining closed. It’s kind of disappointing.

But then I look at the desk and notice the pair of scissors. I pick them up and make my way back to the bed where I was sitting before. I stare at the window. I want it to be open. I want to feel the rain, but I can’t go out. I can’t leave this room. I’m not facing anyone. None of them understand because none of them could. But the rain is so tempting. I simply can’t resist.

As I lift up the scissors to the window, I stop myself. I try to imagine any negative sides to this. I may get hurt in the process of breaking through the glass that wasn’t meant to be broken. But is that as bad as what I’ve already dealt with? Could it even compare? No, it couldn’t. Would he mind if I broke his window? No, if he minded, he wouldn’t have let me keep myself in this room. No one’s looking. Just do it.

So I do. I raise the pair of scissors above my head and jam them into the glass as hard as I can. They’re lodged into an extremely large crack. I rip away at the glass with the scissors and avoid stepping on the pieces on the floor. I notice that the downpour increases once I get the window open. Rain pours in, getting me soaked in what seems like a pool of my own pity.

I move over and sit on the bed again, just staring at the mess I created. I hear footsteps down the hallway and consider hiding, but I hear the doorknob jiggle and it’s too late. I look up and see him standing in the hallway, completely horrified. He was chasing after me. He was looking for me. He has found me. He stares at me, tears now coming to his eyes. He sees what I’ve done. He comes up to me, tears streaming down his face now, holds me, and kisses my forehead softly.

I close my eyes as he rocks me back and forth in his arms. All I hear is the sound of him sobbing. All I feel is his embrace. All I see as I close my eyes is what I thought happened. But then I opened my eyes. I still feel him, see him, smell him, hear him, and everything. I look at the window, completely intact. The rain is all outside. I glance down as tears come to my eyes.We are now crying together. It’s now that I realize what I’ve broken.




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