Lana

The rain is pounding hard, against the ground, against my face. I take off my hat and let my the dry top of my head get drenched. It's cold, I'm shivering, and I was stupid enough to not bring my umbrella, even though I know very well it practically rains everyday here. But you know what? I might stay out here, on this rusty, old swing set for a while. I like to be alone.
Besides, there is no way in hell I'm going back home. Not soon, at least.
This park used to be my favourite place in the whole wide world when I was little. And lot of other people's too, now that I think about it.
When my Uncle Ronnie was alive, he'd take me here after school. This place used to be beautiful. This rusting and creaking swing set used to be shiny and yellow. The three pine trees that grew in a perfect triangle used to be strong, mighty, and too tall for me too even see the top if I stood too close. Now, there are only three pathetic termite-infested stumps. And the deteriorated, faded, and feeble slide that sits in front of me used to be a piercing red and seemingly immovable.
   I smile sadistically.
   Here, kids my age would come everyday (when it was nice and pretty. I think I'm the only one who comes here anymore) and I'd talk to them. I used to be excited to be older back then. I'd tell them all the things I wanted to do.
   'I'm gonna go out with my friends every night!'
   'I'm gonna do anything I want!'
   'I'm gonna date a really cute guy!'
   All the things I wanted to do when I was older. Well, now I am older. And look what I am now.
   Pathetic.
   Freshly graduated from highschool, with such shit grades that I wasn't accepted to any college. Friendless. Ugly. Broke as hell. Still living with my deceiving family.
   I've thought about killing myself. But I don't. What would that fix?

I'm still sitting in the same spot an hour later. The rain hasn't receded even slightly. In fact, I think it got worse.
   I check the time on my phone. It's 8:43 pm. Nothing has changed. Nothing probably will.
You would think this would make me sad. In reality, I don't really feel anything. No happiness, no anger, no sadness. Nada.
I'm cold and shivering, and call me stubborn, but I'm still not going home. I close my eyes and tip my head back.
And then...
And then I start crying.

I don't know for how long I sob. I just know that suddenly I don't feel raindrops pounding on my face.
I open my sore eyes.
I thought it had stopped raining but—
"Are you alright?"

A/N: Tbh I don't really know what I'm doing. It's like an experiment of sorts but you know.
   -Nana