Rain Reposted!

I finally got my story back!

From my teacher, that is, not from the competition. Actually, the only way I'll hear from the competition is if I win, or come second or third.

I got 27/30 - which is a mark above A+. It's my highest mark yet and I'm so excited! I love my story to bits.

I'm posting it again with my teacher's edits, and some of my own edits - and I'm setting up a debate here, so if you don't vote by posting a comment then you guys seriously don't love me or my story anymore.

Anyway, here it is:

Rain.

I love the rain. It's as though all the sadness in the world is finally released. I can feel the earth's sadness, and her sense of relief as all the grief in her heart is emptied at last. When it rains, it makes me feel less alone - like there is someone out there that is even more heartbroken than I am now, if that's even possible.

***

I don't know him very well - not very well at all, only that he's always surrounded by pretty girls and big, intimidating boys. They're always laughing, and I wish I could be with them, laugh with them. But I can't. The group is too big, and he's right in the centre of it. Instead, I stare at him from the safety of my own knit of friends - my best friend stares at me whilst I stare at the beautiful laughing boy.
"I don't know why you like him" he said, for the sixth time in ten minutes. "It's not right. He's too old for you".

I know Karl only speaks out of concern and his anxiety is not without reason, but I can't stop. This boy is like a drug.
"He's not that much older" I protest. "And at least he's not a pimplehead like you"
Karl grinned unashamedly, although the worry did not fully leave his eyes. He had seen me break down before, and it had completely freaked him out. And he wasn't stupid - he knew my obsession with this boy wasn't going to end prettily.
"Talking about what's not right" I continued to tease him. "Having a crush on a year nine isn't nearly as bad as you. Still got that picture of Carmen Electra under your pillow?"

Karl blushed deep red as I laughed and resumed staring at the boy.
"That's...not...the...same" Karl spluttered, and I smiled at myself as he continued to mutter incoherently.

The boy looked up at me for a memnt, and for a heartbeat, for one tiny fraction of a second, our eyes met. He smiled faintly, then turned his head to answer a question one of his impatient, pretty friends had asked him. My heart lurched to a standstill, the restarted violently, drumming a hundred miles an hour. I couldn't breathe for all the emotions rushing through me - breathtaking happiness, heartwrenching sadness, utter contentment and restless impatience, all engulfing me at the same time. I was only vaguely aware of the bell ringing.

"Time for maths" Karl said cheerfully as he stuffed my lunchbox in my bag for me. He slng it over his shoulder, carrying his own easily in one hand. He grabbed my hand and yanked sharply, pulling me out of my reverie.

Karl was a tall, gangly boy with a wicked sense of humour and some serious skin issues. Because he was so long and lanky, he was terribly uncoordinated, and his klutziness was part of his baby-faced charm. Our relationship was close, but strictly not romantic - we both spent our time chasing other people, and comforting each other every time we had our hearts broken. Despite the fact I knew this boy in the flesh, instead of Karl and his obsession with his poster of Carmen Electra, I probably knew him less than Karl knew his beloved picture.

School flew by in a blur - every time I passed the boy, my heart misbehaved wildly, and by the time I was over it Karl was looking at me with concern. After school, he herded me to the train station whilst I tripped around in a daze, as his gaze grew more and more concerned. He carefully steered me onto the train and into a seat when the ancient bucket of bolts finally came, but no sooner had I sat down my phone buzzed in my pocket.

'Hey sweetheart. How was skool?'

My heart spluttered hyperactively as I read through the message and started to text back as fast as I could. If Karl looked worried before, he was seriously alarmed now. He, like most other people, was afraid of what state I might be when my phone flirt was over.
"You're going to have to tell him who you are eventually" he warned me as I texted. "And chances are you're going to end up all over the place again. You scared the living daylights out of me last time"
"I know" I muttered distractedly as I hit 'send'. We sat in silence whilst I waited impatiently for him to reply.

'I wish u'd tell me who u r, honey. It'z drivin me crazy.'

I sighed. Out of all the messages the boy sent me, half of them were a variation of 'who are you?'

'U'd laugh at me if i told you' I texted back, wishing that were not the case. How I wish he'd be genuinely thrilled when he found out it was me.

'No, I won't. Scouts honour. Please tell me.'

Scout's honour. The old fashioned vow made me giggle. Karl looked at me anxiously.

'I g2g' I texted, unwilling to reveal to Karl how deep my phone relationship was - he was reading every word over my shoulder 'Talk 2 u soon'.

I don't entirely remember how I got home - I only dimply remembered Karl hugging me goodbye at the busport and then unbolting my front door twenty minutes later, but nothing in between. It must have been raining, because I was soaking wet and shivering in the hallway, although I can't recall being in the rain that day. Nonetheless, now I was cold, so I trouped off to the bathroom.

The hot water and lavender oil in my bathtub relaxed my muscles - probably a little too much, as I found it hard to get my arms to reach my head so I could shampoo my hair. My phone rested on the vanity unit, but, annoyingly, it remained still and silent. When I was done, I attempted to attack my growing pile of homework - but it was hard to concentrate on pi and square roots when waiting for a call.

This wasn't the first time I'd had this obsessive fixation over a boy - only this time was different because he didn't know my name, and it was all so mysterious, two anonymous texters. I had done this before - over the internet, by mail, and even in person, and it had all gone horribly wrong. After I had cried all the pain out of my heart - the blank disappoirntment, the cold rejection, the bitter resentment - I swore to myself that I would never let it happen again. But then I'd see a beautiful boy and step back into the trap again, deluding myself with things like 'this one is different' or 'this will end differently'. I forgot the pain that the end brought, and would only remember the thrill of love.

Finally, after an agonizing five-hour wait, my phone buzzed at 10:03.

'Hey, sorry about the wait. Mum forced me 2 go out 4 dinner with her bf'

I just gazed at the words, the words that had saved me from insanity. My maths lay abandoned on my table as I lolled on my bed, wishing that the words had a double meaning. My phone buzzed again.

We chatted a bit, about innocent stuff - school and homework and annoying teachers. But the mystery surronding my name was always in the offing. Finally, he caved.

'Can u please tell me who u r? I'm beggin u'

My reply consisted of only one flirtatious word: Guess.

'U always make me guess' he complained sixty-three seconds later.

'I no. It's very entertaining'

It took him a little while to reply to that one - I suppose he was trying to think of a girl that he hadn't already mentioned before.

'Leanne?'

I sighed, raw pain rippling through my heart. Leanne was bold, blonde, and beautiful. He could not have named a girl more different to me.

'Ur way off. Try again'

'I'm always way off. Sarah? Naomie? Cynthia?'

There was something different about that message - different to the sickly sweet persuasion that had filled his messages before. There was an undercurrent of...anger? Annoyance? I shook my head to get rid of the negative thought. I was reading too deep into a message that only comprised of seven words.

'No. Try again'

'Jessica. That's my last guess. Seriously. I'm running out of credit'

The abrupt change of mood in his messages was really scaring me. It was so sudden, and so unpredictable. I thought he was having just as much fun as I was, maybe even more so.

But I wasn't an idiot. It ended here.

'Fine. I'm the year eight kid in ur English class. I transferred a few weeks back'

My thumb hovered over the 'send' button. Could I push my luck a bit more? Tease him for just a little bit longer?

Something crashed downstairs, and my hand squeezed my phone instinctively. I watched numbly as the message sent.

The next ten minutes were the longest minutes of my life. If he was hoping for Leanne, then there was no way on earth he would be thrilled to find out it was just a scrummy year eight.

I wished I wasn't so worthless - I wish I was one of those girls who were desirable and attractive and wanted. I wanted to be one of those girls who were chased by boys, instead of me always doing the fruitless chasing. There's nothing wrong with me, but, apparently, there's nothing good about me either.

My obsession with this boy had been like an addiction to an illict drug. The thrill of my phone buzzing, his caller ID flashing across the screen, brought on a complete, ultimate high. It made me feel loved, cherished, wanted. Teasing him made me feel like I had complete and utter control, something I had never had before. It was as if nothing could go wrong.

But everything did. As usual.

My phone buzzed again, but it brought on no supernatural high. It was a devillish, cruel sound.

I cried for the first time over this boy as I read his reply.

My teacher wants me to end the story here - at a cliffhanger. But I somehow disagree. The last paragraph is the most beautiful and sad paragraph of the story, and it links all the rain into it - if I leave the last paragraph out, there's no point calling it 'Rain'. It doesn't make any sense.

Here's the last paragraph again, just to jog your memory:

I stood in the downpour, right in the centre of the oval. I could faintly hear people sniggering and lauging ath me, even through the roar of the heaven's aggressive tantrum. My phone lay open in my hand, getting destroyed by the rain. My hair hung limply around my shoulders, too soaked to be bullied by the wind that gushed past me, icy cold. But I barely registered the cold, or the wet. It didnt' really occur to me exactly how much of an idiot I looked, just staring into the sky. I could vaguely here the seniors jeering, the teachers yelling, but I didn't move. Disappointment and rejection kept me locked in place like a dead weight as I stood in the middle of the fierce storm.

I liked the rain. When the heavens cried so violently, no-one noticed my tears.

So, what do you think? Ending or no ending? PLEASE VOTE BY COMMENTING!!!

The story was inspired partly by one of my latest flirt-gone-wrongs (they never seem to end in flirt-gone-right), and the narrator (who is never named) is based on me. The boy (who is also never named) is based on a boy in my english class, plus some other boys I know. Karl is based on one of my friends, Kyle, although I made the friendship between Karl and the narrator much deeper and closer. The story is also based on Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility.