Dancers in the rain
People running to and from their destinations, heaven forbid they slow down. It’s raining now, seems like it’s always raining these days. Standing under a tree is a little girl, not more than 15 years of age, who can’t seem to take a step beyond the shadow of the tree. People rush around her, she’s not important enough for a moment of their time. She wears faded blue jeans, an old t-shirt, and beaten up sneakers. Her long brown hair is black with the rain soaking it, casting shadows over her pale face. Her dark chocolate eyes are full of tears that she refuses to shed.
We’ve all know of girls like this, just may not have seen them, hidden in plain sight. She wants to cry out for someone to notice her, for someone to tell her it’s alright. Still she stands, lost in her confusion and seclusion. She hides from her life because she thinks she’s a monster. A 15 year old girl honestly believes she’s a monster for the things that she’s done to herself.
Why you may ask? She doesn’t come from a broken home, doesn’t have abusive parents. She goes to bed every night with a full stomach and an “I love you” from her mom and dad. Her family isn’t bad off when compared to others and the worst part about that is that she knows all this. She feels like life means nothing anymore, it’s all just an endless storm and yet she knows there are people who are worse off than she. She fully, whole heartedly believes that she’s a monster for being so depressed with no reason to feel this way.
Day to day she hides the scars, she keeps herself shut off for fear of some one finding out about her addiction. There is nothing physically wrong with our sad friend, she’s perfectly healthy and she’s very intelligent when she chooses. She just can’t find a way out of the storm that has turned into her life, throwing her about at it’s will without rhyme or reason.
From her station beneath the tree she watches people rushing by. Occasionally she spots a dancer, a being who takes the time to play in the never ending rain. She smiles momentarily as she watches with sadness in her eyes, wishing just once she could join them. Wanting so badly to be one of them and leave behind the pains of her body. Her soft smile disappears as the dancers move away, their glow disappearing into the grey that surrounds her as they dissolve into the crowd again.
A year goes by and still she stands her lonely post, weathering the storm as best she can. Barely she makes it through; another day lived at the mercy of the blade, five more scars to remind her of her monstrosity. Still the dancers are just out of her reach, just beyond the bars she’s constructed around herself. They move in and out of her limited line of vision, leaving her to wonder where they all go. The gentle glow of their smiles trying to leak into the shadows the girl lives in.
Suddenly she shudders in fear, terrified by just how far she could go this time. It would all be over and she could move on to whatever comes after. A shiver quakes through her slender frame, she could do it. With just a swipe of the blade she would be free, she wouldn’t hurt for no reason anymore. Something in the back of her chaotic mind shatters like glass and she tosses the piece of metal to the floor, no longer craving the pain to remind her that she’s still human.
With one simple move she breaks through the walls, she steps out from under the tree in the rain. Freedom. Rain beats down upon her up turned face, her eyes closed as she lets go, washing away the hurt. With a laugh she reaches out and some one near by grasps her cold hand. Warmth moves up her arm and she can feel her heart, which she had thought dead, beat again. She’s not too late to feel…not too late to keep going.
She becomes a dancer in the rain, becomes a part of something more than just the pain and addiction. The hand holding hers leads her to the next step, helps her leave behind her barbed prison. Dancing away without regret or sorrow, she laughs and realizes she’s made it. This is adulthood, her painful childhood washed away by the tender down pour of release.
Still she wears the scars and carries the memory of her addiction, but when she feels herself slipping back she holds out a hand and turns her face upwards to feel the rain. Touching the scars she remembers a time before the dancing and continues on through the rain knowing that the sun is bound to smile down upon her. Her scars have now become a badge of her strength, her will to carry on. She’s become…a dancer in the rain.
There’s a dancer in us all and all we have to do is reach out for that hand that each of us has inside. We all just have to take the time and step out from the shadows of our lives, step into the rain that can wash away our hurts if we let it. We can’t forget our past but we don’t have to keep reliving it…suffering constantly for something that we need to step above. There are many scars in everyone’s life, there is also rain in everyone’s life but be a dancer despite what the rain washes away.