BA-BAM! and here it is! Another one!

Err, if I'm doing well, please tell me~ Or if not, give me tips!

---------

I opened my eyes again. Geh. Crying faces. Maybe I should close my eyes again… I can’t deal with crying people! I’ve always been socially awkward~!

Well fine. I can do awkward.

I sat straight up, jumped to my feet, in the process shaking off my crying sister.

“Erm… Just kidding~! Ahaha… haha…” Don’t you dare laugh at me Earth!

There was silence even more unbearable than the last. Some people turned around, awkwardly wiping away streaming tears.

Kim was staring at me, here big black eyes red with worry. I’m so glad she was all right. Not many people would survive that silver rain.

“Nobwelle~!” She sobbed, tears streaming down her face, “I’m swo sworreey! Idt’s all my fauwlld!” She tacked me to the floor, hugging me furiously.

And I had just stood up too.

“Come to think of it… How did you know?” My sister leaned in close, looking at me with suspicious eyes.

“Know what?” I played dumb. Which is very difficult, mind you, I’m very smart after all! I started to pry Kim off me and stand up again.

“You wanted us to get inside? How did you know? We all felt it—“ She pointed outside to the still continuing rain, “When it happened. And we realized the ‘calamity’ you averted for us? So how?”

“Hmmm. I see what this is~” I chuckled with a ‘fufu’, “You just can’t handle your sister being better than you~” I casually swung my arm over her shoulder and pulled her in close, “’There just has to be a reason why I’ve succeeded in bettering you’. What are you so afraid of? I’ve always been better~”

Her suspicious smile twisted. Were those veins popping on her forehead?

“Let’s face it. You were born with the looks,” I ran my finger through her medium length silky brown hair, “and I was born with the looks,” I gestured to my head.

She seemed irked, but said nothing.  

-------------

Then we waited. We waited to the ‘rain’ to stop.

Most of the time we sang, we are a band class after all, although there was a few others mixed in. Sometimes we played cards. Other times we were silent.

All the time, they avoided looking outside. They didn’t want to see how many didn’t make it. How many people that didn’t have a ‘Noelle’ to tell them to get inside.

I looked outside. Something fundamental in me changed since the rain. I had gained a lot—power, knowledge, and understanding.

But I would not avert my eyes. The bodies that were strewn outside… Not just outside, but around the world. This had to happen in order for ‘me’ to happen. So I looked at their faces, and I found their names inside my knowledge. Even those whose faces I could not see, I knew who they were. I knew who died before their own family did. I knew who survived.

I knew of the chaos. Government organizations scrambled to figure out what the rain was. Mothers restrained by their family as they saw their child outside. Fear, despair, anger, guilt. ‘Why have I survived?’ ‘Why not me?’ ‘I wish he didn’t survive.’ ‘I do not want to survive without her.’

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I knew of the kindness. Intersections strewn with cars, stopped in order to not hit the people collapsed on the crosswalks. Teachers comforted small children, distracting them with toys and games. A stranger rescued some animals, sheltering them in her house. Hospital employees worked overtime, dragging those who survived out from under the rain and into treatment. Librarians read books, calming those around them. Police talked to their prisoners, telling them what happened outside, and they watched them grieve, because their sinful selves had survived.

“…Is it not beautiful?” I whispered, my voice was as quiet as the wind, barely reaching the ears of my friends.

They looked at me strangely.

No, I suppose they wouldn’t understand. Not now, at least. But those stories of beauty and kindness will spread through words, for without silence, we may speak again.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. How sad, so very sad, for kindness to only be highlighted in times of stress. Everyday, without a disaster, ordinary kindness will go unspoken.

But shouldn’t it be that way? A world where kindness is unspoken, for it will be commonplace.

-----------------------

Our waiting ended. They beautiful killer trickled to a stop. The sun shone brighter, reflecting it’s golden light across the slick surfaces.  It seemed to be saying “Rejoice! Your wait is over!”

We were greeted by police. They hustled all of the students out of the classrooms, and into the gym. Phone calls were made.

Even this, I thought, was a kindness. For those police to be by us, and not their families, who they were most definitely worried about, so worried they may die from the anxiety, if not from the rain.

This time I said, “Thank you,” with a small whisper, projecting my voice only into the ears of the policemen (and women). They stiffened, and seemed to whisper back—

“You’re welcome, for it is our duty.”

---------------------------

No one spoke of what I had done. As the story went, we only wanted to make Mr. Vuerts happy. And that desire had saved our lives. And those who weren’t in band, or even in first period? We all were going to thank him together, before splitting to our respective classes.

We were picked up by our father. My heart painfully clenched when I saw him cry tears of joy. We didn’t say much to him.

My mother called, frantic. She went on and on, weeping for hours before I finally put her to sleep with my power. I made sure when she was asleep, that she was in bed.

I had something I needed to do. After making sure the rest of my family was asleep, I left.