Rain.

It was a bitch.

And yet whenever there was rain I was standing in the middle of it. it seemed to wash away memories. Like bleach for your brain. I deserved a bit of bleach, the things that had happened to me would have put other people in a asylum. Not me though. I was one tough cookie. On the outside. Inside, I was one broken mess, a mirror with a hundred cracks only staying together because of one fragile string. I don't think I was going to stay together much longer. I was expecting the shatter anytime now. The string was gone, snapped and disintegrated. The shatter was on its way.

Rain.

It really was a bitch.