Raindrops Book 1: Cry 17 Flashback 4

"Just do it," I muttered to myself as I stood on the side of the bridge after school that Friday, with my arms wrapped around me as I stared into the water below.

From up here, it looked extremely peaceful. For one, the colors were beautiful; mixtures of sea green, blue, and violet along with the reflected colors of orange, red, yellow, and pink from the setting sun streamed along with the soft current.

Down below on the other hand, was a completely different thing.

I would know.

The wind sent chills down my spine so I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of the water.

"Help!"

The voice in my head caused my eyes to snap open, and my legs to stumble backward; a hand grabbed mine and yanked me back to the sidewalk just as some driver blared his horn, forcing me back into reality.

"Are you crazy?" a voice asked incredulously, as I bent over and placed the hand that currently wasn't being held by the stranger, on my knees.

I opened my mouth and panted, calming my heart that had sped up at the sound of the horn.

When I was sure I wasn't going to fall flat if I stood up straight, I slowly raised my head and leaned against the side of the bridge, then closed my eyes.

"You okay?"

That was when I remembered that I wasn't alone, and opened my eyes to see the stranger who had just practically saved my life; then I realized that my hand was still in his.

As if an electric bolt shot through me in that instant, I jerked my hand so fast from his and slid it into my coat pocket, before looking up and into his eyes.

This boy, my 'savior', had dark curly hair that seemed to be blowing around his face, most likely because of the wind. His blue eyes pierced mine and his lips were pursed as if wondering what the h.e.l.l was wrong with me.

"I'm fine," I said, reluctantly dragging my gaze from the eyes that had captivated me, and once more onto the river.

He was quiet for a few seconds, mirroring me and turning to watch the sunset before he turned his head to gaze at me.

I watched this boy from the corner of my eyes, wondering why he hadn't just nodded and walked on by, as any other stranger has done.

Instead, he kept glancing between me and the sunset, until the last vestiges of the sun had gone down, before turning his entire body to face me.

"I'm Noah" he said, his voice almost rhythmical, before slowly extending his hand again.

I stared down at his hands, the feel of the rough but gentle touch that had grasped me earlier replaying in my head, before staring back up at him and being once again, captivated by his eyes.

I made no move to take his hand.

"Shay," I said quietly, almost to myself in fact, and turned back to stare out at the water, but he seemed to have heard it because he nodded and awkwardly withdrew his hand.

He placed his hands in the pockets of his pants and swayed gauchely, probably thinking of something to say that would make the current situation less uncomfortable for both of us; to my surprise, I beat him to it.

"Thank you," I said, letting out a breath as I looked at him, then almost as quickly, turned my gaze towards the river once again. I took in another deep breath and removed my hands from my jacket, before slowly crossing them over my chest.

"For saving me" I finished and turned back to look at him once again.

He stopped swaying and his mouth turned up into a smile, his hands seeming to dig deeper into his pockets.

"You're welcome," he said, shyly removing one hand to run it through his curls; then stopped to scratch the back of his neck.

"Just try not to get yourself run over."

I nodded, not sure what to say to that, and stared back out over the water.

I felt him walk around me and without another word, he strolled off.

Surprised that he had left so abruptly, I turned to watch his retreating form disappear down the street and around the corner.

Slowly, I let a smile curve my lips as I dragged my gaze back towards the water, the smile disappearing almost immediately; because as I stared below at the running water, all the colors that had seemed to beautify it were gone.

At that moment, it seemed black, empty, and full of darkness.

"First as a tragedy," I whispered to myself, the darkness below seeming to reach out to me as if asking me to plunge myself into it.

I s.h.i.+fted my gaze from the water to the sky, as the clouds turned dark and the night began to emerge.

"Second as a farce" I finished, staring back at the river beneath me with narrowed eyes as spiteful memories flooded through me, before the words I had heard from my father countless times played on my lips

"The repet.i.tion of history."