CH. 4 A RAINY DAY

I wake up right before sunrise to the sound of light rain.

It's still my birthday month, March, and lately, things have been surprisingly calm. The training regimen has changed a bit due to me learning more and more and I can communicate a bit now because of my morning writing classes.

I’ll admit that was a rough start. See, there's something called muscle memory and baby me doesn’t have that for pretty much everything. I know how to do it and why it's done, I just can’t do it most of the time. My flowing swirls of English is now chicken scratch Kanji and I loathe every movement. I try not to stress over it because over time it WILL fix and having it like that forever is unacceptable.

Also, no fox training has happened because they're waiting until I’m 5 to start Kitsune Academy.

So, for now, it’s partial boredom and kids.

Nevermind maybe I should say boredom and boredom because none of the kids pay attention to the “freak baby” for too long.

I creep out of the bed area and make my way to the window I know is open and ghost to the roof.

And I sit there letting the rain hit me.

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I turn solemn and look to the falling rain.

Something inside me changed.

I start to cry.

My breathing gets erratic and I can feel my eyes puffing up.

Everything starts to feel constricted and like I’m drowning.

I’m crying hysterically

All of the pressure building up from my memories

The fact I have to become a soldier or very likely die is terrifying.

Shit, I was just a morning reporter working toward a job in meteorology.

That opens up another can of worms of what the hell I actually plan to do here.

What do I want to do?

I could always move to the middle of nowhere and avoid all of what's to come.

I’ve never had a green thumb and hated the countryside but hey a farming life isn’t bad.

I could create an identity but...

Who really am I?

Ame Yakushi or Frank Heldman?

Or a half-dead remnant haunting the mind of a child?

Oh god,

Shut up.

I look at the rain.

Falling and pounding the ground with persistence.

Droplets make tiny splashes and by now drench me.

Looking at the rain I start to calm.

This same kind of rain reminds me of the hospital bed and the constant noise of machinery.

And the same kind of rain I died too.

But this time I know.

I’ll be okay.

I am me and that's okay

I’ll live out this one completely and fully.

And even though I have to fight it’ll be by my terms.

For a seemingly endless amount of time, I stare at the rolling gray.