Runner Up: 12-16 years
Watching the Rain
by Rathi Nadathur
Chelmsford County High School for Girls
Raindrops cascade onto the moth-eaten pathway, beating like a drum. The trees that shroud my vision seem to lean in, as if mesmerised by the sound. The sky is darkening; night crawls in through the horizon, like ink bleeding onto a page. But in this case, it’s ink with pieces of molten silver, shimmering at various brightnesses and sizes. Of course, most of it is obscured by the sudden flock of grey sheep that cry onto the ground. It doesn’t matter though. I can close my eyes and imagine it. Just because it’s not there right now doesn’t mean it will never be. Or never has been.
The clouds seem to run past me, moving ethereally in the still night air. I breathe in. The smell of petrichor and pine leaves mix together, wafting into my dry nose. Each breath is fresh but painful, like a saw in my lungs, but I can’t seem to get enough. I doubt I ever will. Sitting on a branch of the ‘Death Tree’, as it is lovingly penned by those humans that seem to think they know it all, when really it’s them that causes all the pain and su ering they pretend to care so much about.
Sure, the tree branches are black from rot. Yes, the tree is barely standing up without falling. It looks like Death’s own home. My own home. And well, it is. It’s mine and there is no place I’d rather live, no castle or cabin I would rather occupy. Not a single place where the rain is as beautiful as the sunrise, where chirping of the birds drones out all the drilling they do into the world. Why would I want to leave?
Though it seems like I must soon. My time will be cut short. Just like the days have lengthened and the weather has warmed up. Just like how the coral die, bleached of its lifesource in those too salty waters somewhere over the horizon. Just like animals leave the surface of this earth way too soon, too full of the emptiness that comes from eating poison on a daily basis. And yet those humans have the audacity to question whose planet this is. Have the audacity to make themselves the victims here. Talk about wanting to move to another planet. ‘Space Exploration’ they said. ‘It’ll be good for us’ they said. Now they just want to go do the same thing all over again. Destroy another planet.
The cloud rips into two. A single ball of lightning falls, and time itself slows. It comes to rest in front of me, bobbing gently in the rain. I greet it like a friend, reach my blackened claw-like fingers towards it, and it disappears, sending a gentle buzz through my body. I smile. The sky carries on crying. The trees lean in, whispering at each other.
I close my eyes.