Trees and Rain

The window is down. The wind is cold, but it still feels nice and refreshing. The trees are just rushing by, splashes and blotches of greens and browns. I can tell just by the smell that rain is not far off.1

The sky overhead is steely grey. The clouds are dark and heavy, and they cover the sun. No, it will definitely not be long before the rain.2

At your insistence, I roll up the window. Missing the sounds from outside, I turn on the radio. Soft, classical music begins to play, but only for a few seconds. You quickly change the station, bracelets on your wrist jangling and flashing silver with your movement,3

Rain starts to fall, without a pattern at first. I turn my head to look at you. Your lips are pursed, your eyebrows furrowed.4

I turn back to the road. The rain has started to fall harder, making noises as it hits the car. I turn on the windshield wipers.5

I can see you out of the corner of my eye, and I can hear you singing along with the song on the radio.6

I tell myself to pay more attention to the road ahead of me. It is becoming harder and harder to see through the sheets of rain.7

Turning my head again just a little, I see your hand moving towards the radio knob.8

Excited at the song you discovered, you turn up the volume. It almost drowns out the rain. You tap my shoulder urgently, and beg me to sing along with you. I comply, even though I know I should be focusing solely on driving.9

Your voice is so smooth and soothing, I don’t feel afraid as lightning strikes, bathing parts of the sky with light for a split second.10

You keep singing, but I stop, distracted by a thunderclap. I look out of my window, and slow my speed slightly, disturbed by how fast the landscape was changing outside my window.11

I sigh when things outside start to become recognizable, even though the rain streaks on the glass still distort mostly everything outside: the trees, fences, road signs.. 12

I turn my head to the front again. I see the headlights through the rain, and then I hear the awful noise of the person in the car hitting the horn. I swerve the car, avoiding a crash my mere inches. You scream, even though the danger has passed. I know you were scared, if only for a moment. 13

You tell me to pay more attention, but then you laugh, a frightened laugh, and go back to singing along. I sigh with relief, glad that a catastrophe was avoided. I straighten the car, and manuever to my side of the road. 14

I can see you very faintly in my window if I look close enough. I peer at the glass, amazed by your reflection. You look so happy, your smile bright, your eyes sparkling. You don’t seem to remember at all what could have happened only moments before. Suddenly, only your reflection is not enough for me. I swivel my head to look at the real you, slowing the car down.15

I see the tree way too late, through the passenger side window. It crashes down, its weight too much for the little car. It crumbles the roof as if it were made of paper, and your window shatters, showering you with pieces of glass. You raise your arms to cover your face, and I see your eyes before they are hidden. All traces of the happy you are gone, and your blue eyes are wide with panic.16

Oh, God. It’s like someone pressed slow motion on a remote control somewhere. Your mouth is frozen in an O- shape, and I know before you do that you have sung your last song.17

The tree then covers you completely, branches snapping, cracking, and leaves rustling. All I can see is green, green, green.18

I hear nothing but the sounds of the tree still settling itself around you, and the blaring noise from the speakers that I realize is- was- your favorite song.19

I throw up all over the steering wheel. Rain is coming in through the ruined roof and windshield. I hit at the branches of the tree, trying to get them away from me. I don’t want to even touch them.20

I open my door, and forget what to do. I slide sideways out of my seat, not even bothering to try and stop my fall. I hit the wet pavement of the road hard.21

The rain is relentless, pouring over my huddled form. It soaks through my clothes, drenching me. I feel like it would be selfish to shiver.22

I just lay there in the middle of the road. The pavement is rough under my cheek, but I keep my face blank. I feel something warm on my face, and I know it is either blood, mine and yours combined, or my tears. I would bet it was a mixture of all three.