Rain

It was raining light outside when you asked for my hand. I was 5 and you were 9. I said no, because mom and dad will not gonna like it. And I remembered clearly how mom would be mad if I did bad. But you said, it’s okay for once in a while. Because a girl gotta do what a girl gotta do. So I hesitately took her hand. We ran. We sang. We danced in the rain. We had the best day ever.

It was raining light outside when you lied weakly at the hospital bed. You were 12 and I was 8. Mom hugged you tight and dad tried hard to held back his tear. You smiled when you finally gone. But we had the worst day ever.

It is raining light now. Every single rain reminds me of you. Every little drops. Every little step. Every little melody. Every little laugh. I put my umbrella down. Hoping the rain drops will hide my tears. And then I dance in the rain.

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