Hymn of Ame (COMPLETED)

[01] Beginning of Sturm und Drang

CHAPTER ONE

PENELOPE

THE RAIN is still going non-stop for several days now, making the window inky black.

I wrap the blanket around me, clenching on it so hard I could almost feel my nails biting in my palms. Underneath, my body is slightly shaking, goosebumps all over my skin, feet looked old with creases and quite sensitive. I wince when I catch my reflection in the mirror, lips chapped, nose and cheeks red. It's so cold as though the temperature lies flatly at the bottom. I wonder when this will end, or will this ever end?

Everything is fine back on Monday. It's hot, but not too hot - it's just right to appreciate a stroll around the town. If I enjoy such a thing, I would have strolled around. But I really refuse to lump myself with those people who love tiring themselves out pretending it's a healthy walk when all they just do is torture their lungs with smoke from passing cars. Not to mention, I have class at that time.

Usually, I would know if it's going to rain. It's not that hard to tell when it basically drops all the hints: from gray clouds covering the sky, tree leaves eerily whispering with each other, electricity hanging in the air as if the nature is only waiting to explode over the town - it's not hard, really.

I hate rain. Well, who loves it? The tension it leaves in the air always makes me feel restless, sad, irritated - all of these at the same time that I just want to feel nothing.

But that day, it's different. Not because my feelings about it suddenly changed, no, definitely no, because I will always dislike rain. That day I don't see it coming, and I think everyone else is also taken by surprise. No better way to explain it, so allow me to take you on that day.

Monday goes as such:

Birds were singing blissfully under the trees' leafy canopies, wind calm, the sky clear.

I walked down a sidewalk lined up with thick foliage, and watched the sky. The clouds looked like cotton candies that littered around the canvas, so soft, so bright. As I passed the street that lead to Fritzie's home, I held onto the straps of my backpack.

It wasn't still that far when I heard footsteps, growing louder every second. By the time I realized it, Fritzie had already leapt on me, throwing her slender arms around my shoulders. I almost stumbled at her weight. Thankfully, I managed to regain my footing.

It was the third Monday of June, and she was thinking whether or not invite our classmates with us at the park later tonight to watch a play. I would rather engross myself in a book than come along, but I knew Fritzie wouldn't hesitate to drag me by the wrist, so I just conceded.

"What do you think, Pen?" Fritzie asked, excitement painfully evident in her squeaky voice. "Should I invite them, too?"

I couldn't say she was my friend. I just recently met her, and trust wasn't something to just give away. I could remember how thick the awkwardness in the air was, that time she'd approached me on the first day of school. Not just she talked constantly, she was also a physical being that made us totally opposite. Weeks had passed and I grew to tolerate her touches. On my shoulders - waist - hands. The first week of it had been very awful, but I reminded myself that self-control was an essential skill, and I should be grateful Fritzie provided daily opportunities to practice it.

"I think I should! This is my window of opportunity to befriend them, isn't it?" she said, whipping around to take my hands, sporting her disgustingly adorable puppy eyes.

Then her smile dropped, and she looked suddenly dejected. It was as though a crippling fact struck her.

"Will they come, though?" Fritzie sighed, her shoulders slumped down. "I mean we haven't even talked yet. It would be real awkward, wouldn't it? What do you think, Pen?"