Ombrophobia-Fear of Rain
They don't understand. No one does. No one, not even my own family, my own parents, none of them know why I refuse to leave the house when those tiny drops of liquid fall from the sky, turning everything gray and soaked. Not one of them understands why I flinch when the soft 'pitter-patter' begins. Stupid fools.
But you know, don't you, L. You know, of course you know. After all, you were the one who instilled this irrational fear in me. You cursed me, L. You cursed me to feel near physical pain every time one of those blasted drops falls on me! Every time I get caught outside in an unexpected downpour, I have to struggle to keep the screams inside! You…
You cursed me to hear those bells you spoke of on the roof that fateful day.
Whenever a raindrop falls into a puddle, it doesn't splash. Oh no. It rings, a sickeningly melancholy sound. It peals with the sound of thousands of church bells. I wonder how you ever put up with it.
Of course, you always were a freak, L. I suppose that will account for something. After all, no one can be a God like I am. Not everyone gets the chance to be great, L. Only a select few. And you were not one of them.
Oh, you might have thought you were, once. But trust me L. They were just delusions, just like those asinine bells you told me about on our final day together.
I hadn't believed you then, of course. I simply put it off as the last rambles of a fool who was about to die. But I suppose I should have worried when you told me not to worry, that soon I would be able to hear them too.
I remember staring at your soaked back, your sodden form retreating down the stairs to the main floor of the taskforce headquarters, incredulously. What on earth did he mean? I thought. I will hear the bells like he does? Preposterous! I am not a raving lunatic, L. you should know better.
Or rather, I should have known better.
You had always been a strange one, but your odd theories and predictions usually were correct. After all, you were right. I am Kira. That theory was certainly correct.
I should have known when the last thing I saw from your face was the tiniest smile. It unnerved me, to be sure, but I thought nothing of it until I went back to the rooftop.
Why I did that, I have no idea. I suppose the tiny part of me that had been your friend during my memory-less stage was missing you. Needless to say, I quickly crushed that part. Gods have no need for useless emotions like friendship.
So there I stood beneath the drizzling rain. It didn't bother me at first, but eventually I began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. I had no idea why the tiny silvery drops were beginning to make me flinch, or why the thought of becoming soaked suddenly terrified me.
And then, the bells began.
They chimed softly at first, so quietly I could only barely make out the light rings.
But the volume grew, became deafening, and if anything it alarmed me even more than the rain. I ran inside, my calm composure slipping, chest heaving with gasping breaths, and the bells… the bells… stopped. The second I could no longer hear the rain, could no longer feel its needle pricks on my skin, the ringing church bells stopped.
By now, being the genius that I am, I had figured out what happened. Every time it rained, I would be cursed to hear those bells, those intolerable bells, and feel the rain slicing through me like knives.
Thanks so much L. I always wanted a phobia of my own.
At first, it wasn't too horrible. I could stand the rain for a little while. But my fear grew and grew, limiting the amount of time I spent outside from two hours, to one, to half an hour, ten minutes, five seconds, until eventually I couldn't leave the house at all.
But that was fine with me. I was safe when I was inside. I was out of reach of the noise, the pain. It couldn't get to me. I didn't let it get to me.
But even though the rain could not penetrate the walls, those blasted bells could. And they did, haunting me from the inside whenever it rained.
I know this is your fault L. You and your stupid curse. I hope you're rotting in Hell.
So now I fear the rain. I feel like if it touches me, I will be sliced by every drop that glances off my skin. I feel as though the tiniest puddle will swell the second I step into it and swallow mw up, drowning me. And throughout all my panic, I can still hear those bells.
They're trying to make me slip, to lose my self for long enough that the rain can finish me off, just like it sent you to your death all those years ago, L.
But I won't let it. The rain will never get to me; it will never carve up my skin with its silvery edged blades. I will make sure of it. And though I cannot avoid the bells, I can stay away from the rain.
The rain I fear will be the end of me.
Thanks so much, L.