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Rainy nights by Lord Mork

The rain was falling. It was merely a light drizzle, at the moment at least. Later in the night a larger storm was forecast, but that was then, and miles away. The clouds above were golden with the setting sun, and lightning clashed in the distance, still a long way off. The day had been warm, and the raindrops were cool against Dave's face against the fading heat of midday. He was slowly working his way across campus. It was a friday night, and so a good deal of people had made the trip home, or out to the bars or raves or restaraunts that made up the night life of the city. So, luckily for him, the grounds were rather empty. In fact, because of the rain, he was easily the only person out there. And he liked it that way. Right now, he had no desire to deal with anyone. And, even better yet, the raindrops hid his tears. He wandered along the pathways through the grounds, still well-maintained as ever. It had been a dry year, one of the dryest on record, which was causing no end of trouble around the world. This rain was merely a drop in the bucket of what was needed here, let alone in the rest of the continent. Of course, Dave wasnt thinking about that. The fresh smell of the rain was soothing, the soft "pitterpatter" of the drops was calming, but deep inside, he was far too tense and brittle to be soothed by these minor things. Dave was a man who was ready to break. He scowled at a squirrel that watched him from a tree. It looked at him curiously, then scampered off. Though he didnt quite realize it, he was making his way to a familliar bench, from two years ago. When he finally got there, he looked around in annoyance, and sat down on the bench. He tipped his face upwards, and let the rain wash over him. Life was hell. The past year and a half was describable as only that. Even his once seeming eternity in hell dfidnt compare. Oh, sure, for the first while, he and Margaret had been happy. Even after Blue had arrived, things had continued as normal, she hadnt tried a thing. After a while, he and Margaret had moved in together. They had talked, albiet briefly, of marriage, which had been vetoed by both of them. Dave could still remember the lazy afternoons the two of them had spent in bed. The exaultation he had felt every single day. Everyone had remarked on the changes in him, and in her as well. He could remember the warm, fluffy sheets of their bed, the soft pillows his mother had made for them, the warm, slick feel of her flesh when they... But it was over. He had returned to their shared apartment one day, to find her gone. Her few things, packed up and taken away. His things had been smashed, ripped, and otherwise vandalized. At first he had thought her the victem of some criminal, but he had found her, soon enough, back at the dorm, back with Marsha and April. When he had confronted her, asking her why, her only responce was to strike him, and when he fell to the ground, and had pounded on him viciously, an assault that had left Dave with two cracked ribs, a few broken fingers, and a shattered ankle. He had been broken, both physically and mentally. He sighed, and plopped his head into his hands. Of course, he still didnt know why. The rain had begun to chill the air a bit, and it was now running down his back, soaking his clothing. He ignored it though, ignored the soothing sounds and smells around him. He was beyond their help. He moaned to himself, but could not help remembering what had come next. He had returned to the room he had shared with Roger and Mike, who were more understanding than he had given them credit for. They had given him what help they could, but he was beyond that. But they wernt the only ones. Blue had done the same, and, slowly, bit by bit, she had pieced him back together. Not by lavishing him with childish affection, but by talking, hugging, and merely telling him he was someone. It was only natural that they would end up together, and he could still remember her soft flesh, yielding to his touch, and yet resisting. Dave couldnt help himself, the reminder, not of Blue and their relationship, but of Mike's reaction, brought a tiny smile to his face. He had retreated to the bedroom, taken the TV and the remote with him and barricaded himself in, and a full 72 hours of Titanic and Casablanca later, he had emerged, gruff as ever, but accepting. The rain was coming down a little bit harder, the light had faded to a dull glow on the horizon now. The lights on campus were unable to penetrate the gloom, and so it was dark, dark, almost black. Dave was shivering now, not because of the cold, but the sheer power of the memories he was running himself through, almost gleefully. He deserved pain, oh yes. That was his purpose in life. To suffer. Blue had loved him, and she too had left him. She had moved in with, of all people, Margaret, and the two of them had become surly and mocking. They made a sport of what they called "The Dave-bash." In it, they would take turns remembering his most tender, fondest moments with both of them....and tear those memories apart. That had started six weeks ago. And now, here he was, out in the night, waiting. He was here for a reason, and he knew it. He had a choice to make. But it was already made, in his mind. He was a worthless, useless, cowardly, unloved bastard. No-one could love him, no-one ever would. The only thing he was good for...was a punching bag. He stood up, his wet clothing was clinging to his body, which was gaunt and thin. His gray eyes had hollow bags under them, and they were sunked. His hair was a total mess. His mind was long made up. All he needed now was the tool. He turned and began the walk back to his appartment. ----------------- Continue

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