she grabs me by my arms and pulls me close, much like she always does every single time it pours.

"you're standing under the rain again."

i could almost whisper alongside her. it's not like she says anything different anyway. always that same sentence. said under that same overcast sky. with that same calm concerned smile.

she never fails to make me feel more tepid inside.

"it is okay as long as i'm with you."
"not like we have a roof to stand under anyway".

she answers herself nearly synchronized with me. she knows exactly what i was to say.

"you can stay safe and dry in my arms instead."

i know she says those words every day but i never tire of listening to them. she has always been my fortress. i love her.

and i can barely understand why, but she always says that i am far too cold as she hugs me; to be honest all i feel is warmth. it puzzles me still—

whenever i close my eyes and say that this is the warmest i've ever been all she does is shake me as the rain grows ever so stronger.

her face just turns pale as if she's seeing a ghost in my place. i wonder what's wrong.

"can you hear me?"
"wake up!"
"hey open your eyes!"

"why are you screaming, mother."

all i can do is ask as calmly as i ever could.

"you're bothering the neighbors. i'm awake. i'm here."

i continue to speak out but maybe the rain is muffling out my voice? i don't know.

she looks cynical. much like the opposite of her cool and patient demeanor she always sports.

"no! not you too!"
"please stay!"

"i'm here mother, what's wrong!"

i try my best to shout watching her weep and sob incessantly calling out my name.

i hate it. she does this everyday. she doesn't ever stop. i hate it. i hate it. how can i make her stop?

"please."

i once again shout out but maybe the subsiding rain blocks that away from her ears like they did yesterday and the day before.

i hate to see mom like this. it isn't funny. i'm here! i'm not going away like dad and my big sister!

i'm always here.

"please don't go away."

she whispers once again holding me tighter. much much tighter than she ever did.

her arms almost passing right through me.

"mom, i can't breathe."
"are you alright?"

waterfalls of her tears wet my hair and fall straight to my heart. i can feel them. so so so warm.

it was almost dead silent if the rain hadn't  been taking away the words from my mouth.

"i'm sorry mom."
"i'll always be here for you"
"i love—"

"*******. you good for nothing, leaving me alone."

she whispers almost as soon as the tears subside. smiling. again. unsettlingly.

"mom?"

i don't know. i don't understand. i don't believe it.

"go on. go ahead. you want to leave? leave. leave me alone. that's what you always wanted to do didn't you? don't let me hold you back. go on. go away. go away like everyone else does."

she doesn't even wait for me to collect the proper words to reply. i've been trying to do so for weeks, months of this same dialogue in repeat. ever since she took me from that freaky hospital bed.

she stood up and walked past me. more like she walked through me. like i was a poltergeist.

doesn't she know that my soul is already anchored in her? i won't ever leave. she keeps me for ever safe.

i can't bare to watch her walk away. that is something i'll never ever do. i know she'll be back in a few minutes anyway.

mom will never let get sick in the rain after all...

so suddenly, she grabs me by the arms and pulls me close, much like she always does every single time it pours.

"you're standing under the rain again."

she says with a ridiculous smile.