A walk in the rain

I shuffle to the door, drawing my coat close around my shoulders, my hands deep in my pockets. I know its raining outside, but I want to get out, away… In a moment, I am outside and the rain is lashing against my face – it does not matter, my cheeks are wet anyway. It is dark. Dark and cold. Above, the sky looks fantastic; it is being ripped apart by the sheer force of the wind. Walking is difficult and I feel like I’m being forced backward. The wind is talking to me saying,“Guilty, guilty, guilty” Even the trees are bending over backward telling me the same, but I walk on heedless.

I am alone in a lonely world. I feel fragile, vulnerable under the power of the storm, but there is no turning back. My feet are taking me somewhere, one foot after the other; step by step. I close my eyes and walk blindly, oblivious to the world, feeling the rain plaster my hair to my head. It seems there is no time, only space.

 My coat is useless now, I am soaked through but still I walk on up the drive and past that gate. Free! My mind whispers to itself and I suppress a mad desire to giggle, to throw my arms up in the air and answer the rumble of the thunder. My good pair of shoes is muddy, and my skirt is clinging to my legs but I do not care. The confused nights are over. I will never wake up in the middle of the night frightened, lonely, and afraid. The rain has washed away my tears and the lump in my throat is dissipating, but there is the ache. Deep and throbbing, I know it will never go away. For as long as I live it will hurt.

The storm is furious, it is a reminder of the years of torment I have suffered in that house. Those enclosing walls have kept me caged for the greater part of my life. Life has left a bitter taste in my mouth and made me used to pain. I have shivered in my bed night after night; my cheeks salty and wet; bruised and hurting. You see, my father loves me dearly and he says the true expression of love is through touch. I tell him it hurts so bad, but he says that’s okay. He says he loves me very much and it has to be our little secret. He’s told me not to tell. I do not want to be loved this way, I cannot stand it.

I am far away from home now, and that is good. I know I am sick, I am dying. It’s funny when you think about it. The world is a canvas and I have no brush. I have lived an empty life, I am wasting away and I cannot help it. But that’s okay too. After all, there is no one but me in this world and soon I will be no more. I left my father’s body in his favorite chair. I know by now he is as cold as I feel. Perhaps he will stay there for days, weeks, maybe months. Finally I will not see those eyes that have scorned me, abused me, hurt me…I am safe. I cannot explain the weight that has been lifted from my heart. The feeling of exultation is intense, dizzying almost.

I know what I have done is wrong. It is unacceptable in society’s eyes and in those of the law. Let the gods judge me and declare my fate, but it was my only escape. I do not ask for pity, or sympathy. I did what I knew I had to when I did and now I am here. I felt guilty whilst he choked and gasped for air. I know he was asking for help, but inside I was frozen. Within minutes he was still.Yes. I am guilty. I deserve to be locked up for life. Yet inside I know I am finally free.