~ WangXianLovingLotus

"Hello, Harry. How do you feel today?" A dreamy voice whispered in my mind.

I feel... lost. Like shattered glass that doesn't belong on the floor. If only I had told her that I cared... that she mattered...

I sat there on the same bench, legs folded to protect from the moist grass. I wore the same old shirt, the same old sneakers and the same old hair tie.

Fingers tapping the same old watch... waiting there at the same time as always...

I had always waited.

Always cared...

Then why did you not tell her? My mind chastised.

...Coward. I was a coward. Always had been.

Scolding my cowardly heart, I waited... and waited...

"Not having a mother is no excuse for wearing the same old shirt, Harry," she had said.

Her words echoed as I mumbled under my breath, "I wore it again, Grace. Come tell me off."

But she didn't.

I waited for her to come, to sit beside me, and lecture me on hygiene. And healthy food and hair maintenance and whatever it was she babbled every day. She cared a lot. She always had.

"Then why... why leave me?"

KABOOM—

The whispering 'why' that slipped off my tongue, no matter how inaudible, shredded the heavens apart. Down poured the rain, lashing out its force on my shuddering back.

Shaking from the tears, not the cold, I was used to the cold. Living in my drunkard father's old apartment, shutting myself into that dusty and cold little room so he could party with his friends in the kitchen... with no mother to cuddle me close... the cold — never meant anything.

Grace had been my warmth. That sparkly smile, those twinkling brown eyes, rosy cheeks, radiated the purest of energy. Wholesome and caring. The only source of warmth in this igloo of a life. My only ray of apricity. Gone. Off to god-knows-where.

Drip... drip—

Rain. "Angels' tears. Don't cry, Gabriel. I'll get through this," she had muttered — never knowing I heard. Gabriel can cry all he wants. I never cared about others anyway.

Just her.

Her graceful, poetic soul.

"Grace... please don't give up... Don't leave me."

Sniff—

"Who's there?" I jerked around.

Nobody was in sight.

Or maybe I was looking too high...

Sure enough, way down below, hugging his legs with his back against a tree sat a child: sobbing to himself, all alone... not much different to me...

Before I knew it, my feet had taken me towards the tree and my knees had touched the grass. What was my hand doing on a pathetic crybaby's shoulder?

Sniff—

"Who a-are you?"

"Erm..." Tears. Alone. "Someone a lot like you. What's wrong?"

"..." Sniff—

He didn't seem to want to converse at all. Well, I can't leave him here!

...Why can't I? God, I must be possessed—

Let's try asking random questions to get him talking. Wasn't that how Grace met me? Yeah... Precisely.

"So, er, what's your name?"

"...Mama said d- don't talk t- to strangers."

I chuckled. "Oh? I'm not that scary. Then no need of a name. What can I call you?"

"...Same thing, silly."

This boy is hilarious. "I meant a nickname?"

"Oh—" Sniff— "Ah... Richie..."

"How old are you, Richie?"

The boy held up five trembling fingers.

"Five? I see... Why are you alone?"

"Mama..."

His mother? "You lost sight of Mama?"

"WAAAAAAH!" As sudden as the thunder, the child began to wail.

"Goodness- Wha- er... God, I'm bad at this. L- Look here, Richie... Mama's right here."

Fwip— His head shot up, eyes sparkling eagerly.

"She must be here in the park. Where did you lose her first?"

Richie pointed to the merry-go-round in the distance.

"Hm... then let's start looking from there?"

"I... searched ev- everywhere..." Sniff—

"It's okay, we'll look again."

"Together," a graceful voice rang in my head.

"...Together, Richie?"

"Mhm!" The boy bobbed his head and stumbled to his feet. We walked around, searching all over the place. He even peeped into bushes!

Merry-go-round... Playground slide... Swings... Ice cream truck... On and on. It was pouring but we had to find her... so I offered him my hoodie.

I was used to the cold anyway.

Memories forced their way through my reluctant head, excruciating my heart.

"Harry, how do you feel today?"

"Harry, it's okay. None of it was your fault."

"Harry dear, you're doing great."

"Don't worry, Harry, your father won't fall ill."

"You're not useless, Harry, everyone's amazing and so are you."

"I'm sorry about your father, Harry..."

"Harry, look, it's a butterfly!"

"I'm fine, Harry. Really."

"Ah, I hit my hand on something, hence my knuckles being sore, don't worry, Harry. What's with your scar?"

"School was... fun. Yours, Harry?"

"Oh, knives... just a little scared, hehe."

"Ah yes, didn't come yesterday. Sorry if you panicked! Things are a bit... messy back home. But never mind me. You?"

...Yeah...Always the same. She became an inch more open every day, but still made sure to shrug her woes away and focus on me.

"Guess what, Harry? Prefects at school gave me a commendation! For being their pillar of emotional support. I'm everyone's emo support, aren't I? ...But who's mine..."

Why did I not just speak up and ask? What's the matter? What's up with your family? School... something happened? Why do you never touch knives?

...I'll be your emotional support. I promise. Just come back...

"Mister Someone-Like-Me?"

I looked down to find the boy tugging on my hand. "You seemed lost."

"Oh," I rubbed my sore nose. "Sorry."

"ACHOO! Erm... I saw someone running..." he pointed right.

"Let's go! Might be your mother looking for you." So we ran, sprinted across the park, splashing mud hither and thither, sneezing and calling out. Finally, a short and plump lady stopped inn her tracks, facing them with her tear-streaked face twinkling. "RICHIE!"

Panting, I stopped and watched him run to his mother. Watched him bawl in her arms. Watched her cuddle him close. A mother's warmth — probably chases away all the cold.

Heaving a sigh, I spun on one foot and turned back. Job done. Back to solo-sobbing.

Smack—

"Mister Someone-Like-Me! Mama says thank you!"

My trembling lips and threatening tears gritted back, I smiled and bent down to the leg-hugger. "Haha, glad you found her, Richie."

Richie beamed wide at me, teeth glimmering bright as sunshine, before twirling around and dashing back to his mother.

In those seconds dashing by, my brain was a flurry.

"Grace... father's worse. Pale and drained..."

"It'll be fine, Harry, he'll do great."

"But what if... I mean, what do I do if—?"

"You aren't nothing without him. You'll still get along just fine. And nothing will happen, really."

TWOO! Twoo!

"Hark! Peace! Twas the owl that shrieked, the fatal bellman–"

"Eh?"

"Lady Macbeth said it. I love how the owl's supposed to be an omen— ...Oh no. Harry, go home. NOW."

...I never understood her knack for instincts. Just... spot-on. Well, at least I get to have the house to myself now. No more liquor bottles thrown in my face.

"Hey Richie!"

"Hmm?" The boy looked back.

"...Don't let go of her hand again, okay?"

"Yepsie!" Richie waved and ran through the rain back to the street, swinging his mother's hand in his.

Pitter, patter... Drip... drip—

Splash—

The rain stopped? I looked up to find a battered umbrella over my head.

"Stone heart softened to cotton?"

"..."

"You're smiling."

"That's because you came."

"Hehe!"

That. That one giggle was all I wanted to hear. "GRACE!" I screamed, squeezing her sturdy frame tight in my arms.

"Thought I left?"

"I didn't know what to think." My shoulder juddered as I sobbed on her shoulder. Finally. FINALLY. My little apricity was back.

She wrapped her arms around my back and patted me. "Funny how I've never really hugged you before. Not even bumped elbows," she chuckled.

True.... An unbreakable bond, but a pure one. All they had done was sit on one bench and chat. Strangers confiding their darkest woes in each other.

"Where were you?" My voice was quivering with adrenaline.

"Well... I was grounded for a while. Couldn't please my insatiable mother."

"Oh... released today?"

"Nah. Ran away."

...Wow. She really was stronger.

"Ah... the rain. Dripping from the heavens to wash away thy tears, it serves to soothe thee and guide you to me."

"Been writing poetry again?"

"Nah, just came up with it."

I chortled happily in her poetic embrace.

"Hey, Harry. Mind if I lodge at your place for a while? Ran away — but with nowhere to go..."

"Yes-please-I'd-love-to-have-you-over!"

"Hehe," she laughed. "Someone sounds eager. Not gonna let go of me?" She tapped my back.

"Never again."

"Hehe. I'm happy you've changed, though. He who could hardly care less for someone's tears helped a child find his mother... Impressive."

"You only need the sun when it starts to snow."

She smiled. Beamed at me so merrily my torn heart magically patched itself up. "Are we going to stay here in the rain or...?"

**********

With a stretch and a yawn, I lazily slithered out of bed and sauntered over to the window. The curtains were already pulled apart. Down below, he could see a familiar visage skipping down the road, clutching his mother's hand. Eh... right. He's a boy in my apartment complex, but I never bothered to know anyone...

Buttoning up my pyjamas, I rushed out the room, following the wafting ambrosia of chocolate croissants straight to the kitchen. I was greeted by the first real breakfast I've had in years. And a smiling face.

"Hello, Harry. How do you feel today?"

🌸 🍃 🌸 🍃 🌸 🍃 🌸 🍃 🌸 🍃 🌸 🍃 🌸

~Written by WangXianLovingLotus aka Sam