THERE WILL COME SOFT RAIN


To the reader: there are references to cutting and suicide, attempts to commit suicide, and underage drinking within the text.


The soft rain gently poured all over the lush grass.

However, the rain did not deter the trench-coated solitary figure from staying outside to fulfill an annual mission. Her never-ending flow of salty tears now mixed with Heaven's own. The figure stood in that spot for hours, not caring about getting soaked to the bone or staying unprotected in the rain.

As she absent-mindedly stared at the gravestone, she instinctively played with her ornately-designed pendant. Feeling the bumps from the stones and its outline between her thumb and index finger, fond and sad memories from her past were relived.

Her six servants sadly gazed at their fourteen-year-old mistress from the palatial English countryside manor. As much as they wanted to help her by either giving her an umbrella, asking her to come inside, or even accompanying her in the rain, they knew that she wished to be alone.

Nevertheless, to her, she was not alone. The weather and the rain mostly kept her company every year. After all, would one blame such grief from someone who lost her parents at age nine?

She placed a large bouquet of white lilies in front of the huge, black marble gravestone that read:

Ariadne and Dylan Emrys

Beloved parents and beautiful angels

Under God's divine light, may you both rest in peace

We will miss you both dearly

Every year, she hoped that everything was just a bad dream. How she wished that the gravesite she had been visiting for the past five years would suddenly have different names. She wished most of the time for the gravestone, or the reason for it, would simply vanish.

"Happy Birthday, Mum... Happy Birthday, Dad…."

Although it was easier for her to accept that her parents were gone and that they were never coming back, her wishes made her heart heavy. How she wished that they were standing right beside her now. She wished that they were now together to celebrate this day. She wanted to talk with them, hug them, and tell them how much she loved them.

As she realized that all the thoughts in her mind were idle wishes, her knees grew weak and she fell hard on the ground. Anger and sadness burdened her heart.

While the soft rain drenched her all over, she sobbed as she hit the muddy ground with her fist.

She bit her lower lip so hard until it bled, as she murmured, "If it weren't for me, you would still be alive…."

"Emrys - dinner is ready..."

Minutes later, Alexandra Emrys opened her bedroom door. She gave the elderly servant a faint smile. "Thank you, Nana May, but I'm retiring for the evening. Please let everyone know that I won't be joining everyone for dinner, and that I'm sorry."

As she gazed into her mistress' misty hazel eyes, May asked, "Are you going to be all right, Child?"

A tightlipped Emrys glanced downward and avoided her governess' eyes. "I will be, Nana. I will be. Thank you for asking…."

The servant nodded and then headed downstairs to join the rest of her peers.

Emrys closed and locked her bedroom door. The tears that she withheld from May now flowed down her cheeks. She leaned against the door, closed her eyes, clenched her fists, and fought to remain calm. Her right hand continued shaking as it held a switchblade. Her left hand pressed her wounded upper thigh, placing pressure to stop the throbbing and bleeding.

Instead of finding inner peace, her tears streamed down more freely as she looked up the ceiling. She kept wondering if life had to be such an infinite uphill battle.

Her chest felt heavier by the second as the tragedy at the caves of Thera repeated in an endless loop inside her head. She could not take it anymore. She sat on the marbled floor, dropped the switchblade, buried her face with her hands, and sobbed. She closed her eyes and went back to a time wherein she faced this horror before.

In her vivid memory, she followed her parents to the heart of the cave.

The walls shook and cracked once she reunited with her parents. A mixture of gold, red, and green lights seeped through the cracks. Those lights filled the heart of the cave and blinded them. Thick fog also began to form on the ground.

She felt that the walls seemed to know her, thus unleashing its fury. The lights within the cave formed into three distinctly colored bolts of lightning. As each bolt hit her body, a tremendous surge of energy coursed through her. The intruding energy stirred both power and fear within the core of her being.

Her mother screamed. Her father grabbed her and tugged her mother's hand. They desperately and quickly darted away from the heart of the cave.

The cave walls rumbled more violently as if it hurled rocks to prevent their escape. As they saw light from the cave's entrance, a huge boulder struck her father. The boulder's impact sent his father ramming against the cave wall and had her hurling her a few feet closer to safety.

As her mother helped him, she yelled for her to run out to the cave.

Hesitantly, she followed her mother's order. She ran as fast as her legs could take her until she got out of the cave.

Her young heart jumped for joy once someone emerged from the cave. Happiness, however, became short-lived as she gaped at the sight of her bloodied mother dragging her father's lifeless body. She let out a bloodcurdling scream once her parents fell hard on the ground.

Ever since then, things have never been the same for her. She kept a façade of strength for all to see. Inwardly, she was deeply hurt and had constantly longed for her parents. In her heart, she would give up all of her achievements if it meant that she could change the past.

The morbid thoughts that she fought all this time now seeped through and resided within her. The dankness of her spirit then spread from the core through every fiber of her being.

She removed her hand from her face and stared into empty space. Once she rested her hands by her sides as she sat on the marbled floor, her right hand rested on the switchblade beside her. Instantaneously, she became more attuned to her throbbing left upper thigh.

While her eyes were shut, the racing of her heart came in sync with the throbbing of her self-inflicted wound. A soft sob escaped her as she clutched the switchblade beside her once more and thought, "Maybe now, I'll have the guts to just do it…."

Her head felt as if it were about to explode, as an internal debate unraveled. The storm within her mind and heart violently came on as three main thoughts entered her mind.

The first thought argued that suicide was the only way to end her pain. The second thought admonished that ending one's own life was a sin punishable by eternal hell. It further warned her that if she did kill herself, she would never be with her parents again. The third countered that she was already in hell because of her pain, so suicide would not matter anymore to the damned.

She had to do something – anything – to stop those morbid thoughts from seeping in her being.

Shuddering with such rage, sadness, and guilt, she took the switchblade and flung it at the far corner of her room.

The switchblade deeply embedded into the wood-paneled wall.

Releasing such an embittered sigh, she stood up, walked to her bathroom, and washed her face in hopes to shake of any dismal thoughts. As she reached for the towel and patted her wet face, her hazel gaze rested at the bathtub containing crimson-colored water.

As she remembered the many times that she cut herself in the same spot for many years, and again tonight, she mused with a heavy heart, "Damned if I do it, and damned if I don't…."

She normally chose one of the four activities to clear her head: go to the balcony and get some fresh air, retreat inside her soundproof music room and play the piano for hours, contemplate by the fireplace with a glass of brandy in hand until dawn arrived, and write down her most intimate thoughts inside her journal. The first activity already failed in pacifying her soul tonight. The second option would not work for her, since she felt too drained to go downstairs for the piano.

She walked towards her desk, sat down, pulled out one of her nightstand drawers, and produced her journal….


Dear Mum and Dad,

Birthdays were always big events in our family. However, it's hard to celebrate a birthday – let alone two – if the celebrants aren't here to enjoy them with you. Knowing that you're never coming back to me is killing me inside.

Please don't be disappointed with me. I promise that it will get better for me as the years pass by. It just happens to be harder to deal with on some days, such as today.

I'm sorry for the many times that I've succumbed to my weaknesses. I'm sorry if I've been rash and ungrateful. For the sacrifices that you have made for me, I owe you that much to live my life to the fullest. I need to cherish the life that flows within my veins.

It was just like yesterday when I saw you two together. I remembered how you two cuddled by the window as you both looked at the stars. Little did you two know that I saw you two dance to ballroom music when you thought that I was fast asleep upstairs. I saw how you two gazed into each other's eyes with such intense love.

You two were meant to be with each other. Just imagine sharing the same birthday with the one you love. It was kismet, was it not?

If you ask me, I have no doubt that it was kismet….

Remembering how you were with each other always made me wish for the same thing. How I wish that I would meet and fall in love with the person I'm meant to share my entire life with – my soul mate. I'd like to share such intimate moments with him.

Do I really deserve the fruition of this wish of mine? Would I really want someone who I love with all my heart to know and suffer along with me? As dismal as life seems to be, part of me yearns to make this dream come true.

I yearn to love someone, and to be loved in return…. For one to love another unconditionally and unequivocally is a risky, but euphoric experience. It's euphoric due to the joy being together brings, but it's risky because you would never know how long it would last.

Does it really matter how long love would last?

I wonder why fate had to be both loving and cruel. First, she linked two people who were meant to be together for the rest of their lives. Afterwards, she tore them away from their loved ones so soon.

I just wish that someday soon, I would find purpose in living my life. I'd like to do this not just for you alone, but for me as well. It would take time, though, before I could think of you without being sad.

Maybe someday, I would find my purpose in this world and be ready for it. I don't know whether my fate lies in re-exploring the caves at Thera, excavating other archeological finds, dueling, or becoming a good parent.

All I know is that I need to be at peace with your death and its repercussions. As of now, I just don't know how to do it….

Whatever my fate might be, I thank God for the short time that we had together. I'll always remember what you told me: it's the quality that matters – not the quantity. I hope that one day, I'd make you both proud of me.

I wish you both a Happy Birthday... You will always be in my heart and mind, and I will always love you….


A myriad of emotions stirred inside her, as she placed down her calligraphy pen and skimmed through her journal entry.

Closing her eyes, a few more teardrops flowed down her cheeks. While her eyes were shut, her senses diverted their attention to the pouring rain outside the window.

In her most desolate hour, she did something that she had not done for a long time as she mused, "I haven't talked with You for a long time. Almost every year since they died, You've always sent Your rain to be with me. I'm so sorry if I strayed from You for so long. As much as there would be more days such as today, I entrust everything to You…."

As she closed her journal, she pondered on the promise of inner peace. "Maybe not now, but someday soon – whatever and whenever it may be…. In the meantime, I need to be open to whatever life has in store for me... for them, and for me..."

Until that awaited moment, the soft rains would come and console her on days such as today. The soft rains from Heaven would remind her that she would never be alone in her journey.

End of Short Story – There Will Come Soft Rain


Author's Notes:

This is one prequel to the original fiction project that I've been working on for many years (these last two years being more active and extensive). Alexa Emrys is one of my protagonists in a series of supernatural/action stories that I'll be posting by the end of this year.

Some readers who are familiar with my fanfic works will know that this story had been posted in Alexa Emrys is a character that I have created and has been appearing for six Yu-Gi-Oh fanfics.

This original fiction and the characters that appear in this story belong to PJ Wise.