Rejection
Rain was falling from the dark, ominous sky above. There was no blue, just a deep, endless grey that seemed to draw the color out of everything. The crystalline drops pierced the cool air to dampen the black asphalt road on which the small neighborhood was constructed. Pleasant little lawns, with trees that seemed almost overcrowded with lush foliage, providing small spots on the front yards that were dryer but darker than the rest of it. Still, even if under shelter, the smell of the rain permeated throughout the small community.
The street was completely vacant save for a few cars parked beside the curb. No one was going to venture out into the rain and risk getting soaked. Everyone was safe inside doing what they would on the wettest of Saturdays. But should one person choose to look outside their window, it would be a particular house on the street that their eyes would be drawn to. The house was normal enough. Black roofing, white siding, two windows on either side of a door that led out onto a cement porch with two brick columns to hold up a small overhanging that kept the porch dry. The reason it would draw their attention was because that’s where the one person outside at the moment was standing.
He stood there staring at the glass pane of a door that separated him from the closed front door, his faint reflection staring right back at him, breathing heavily just as he was. His dark wavy hair, made darker, limp, and glossy by the rain that had fallen upon it, was dangling down to his arched, strong eyebrows in collective threads that glistened slightly. His dark brown eyes looked straight ahead at the door beyond the ghostly mimic before him, adamantly ignoring the water that dripped from the hanging ends of his hair. The soaking wet black shirt was stuck to his skin, displaying the broad, hunched shoulders. The faded image of a dark red phoenix seemed nothing but a mockery as it spread its wings across the damp fabric upon his back.
He didn’t seem to care what was going on around him. He breathed through his open mouth, letting the thin glass in front of him periodically fog up and automatically clear on its own. His shoulders were heaving slightly as he took in each breath. His arms were just hanging at his sides with loose fists at the ends. He really wasn’t thinking about the fact that he looked as if he had just gotten out of a pool with his clothes on and run at least half a mile to get here. The only thing on his mind was what had actually just happened to him. His arrival, the person that answered the door, the short conversation that ended in the slamming of the door in his face. That’s what was on his mind. And he kept running it, over and over again, through his head.
The situation he was in played again before him, and he just couldn’t stay still anymore. He lowered his head to look down at the ground below him. His legs were clad in dark blue cargo pants because he liked the room. The folds of thick fabric tumbled over his shoes and covered the tops of his well worn, black sneakers. Under his feet was a tan mat with lettering across its center. He carefully moved his left foot to the side a bit and understood it instantly. The letters “Welco” were interrupted by his right foot but anybody would be able to tell that the raised dark brown letters said “Welcome”. It seemed a cruel joke that he should be standing on such a device in a place he could feel no less welcome.
He just couldn’t understand how it came to this, turned away from this house of all places. His teeth clenched at the same time as his right fist became tight. He let loose a grunt with a wild punch at anything he could strike, his knuckles slamming into the door frame and bone finding the unfortunate metal hinge that kept the glass door in place. One might guess that the loud bang followed by a series of shouts of pain was not what the occupants of the house wanted to hear, but no one bothered to react from with in. The wet man just turned on his right heel and left the dry sanctuary of the porch, cradling one hand in the other as the rain beat down on his head.
Three steps down from the cement porch, four yards from the steps to the street, and two eyes glazed over as the journey was made. Water trailed down across his face in thin steams. It fell upon his hands and trickled down to his elbows where it found a place to fall to the ground. This man was grateful for the rain at the moment. He didn’t know who was looking at him, if anyone. But if they looked, he wanted to have the sky’s tears to hide his own, the small bead of sadness mingling with the pure waters of the heavens. “No one.” He said softly to himself as he walked around his car to the driver side door. His thoughts were taking on a spoken form as his vision swam and wavered before him. “No more.” He said as he opened his door and sat down in front of the steering wheel. He lifted his hands up and gripped the ring out of habit. His keys were in his right hand, how they got there, he couldn’t remember, even if he cared. He just watched the combination of the rain on his windshield and the tears in his eyes turn everything outside into an indistinct blur. His eyes lowered slightly to the wheel in his hands.
There wasn’t anything he was looking at in particular, he was just thinking. But when another tear fell across his left cheek he lifted his left hand to wipe it away and the tears that were still in his eyes. With his vision restored he put his hand back on the wheel and shook his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts and remember what he had to do. His right hand lifted from the wheel and placed the key into the ignition. Then with one final sentence he turned on the car and drove away from what had been his last chance. It didn’t matter any more what it had been though. The people in the house had made their position on the matter clear. As of this moment it was just a house with a happy family inside. He had no part in it.
His last words as he drove away rang through his head to remind him of what he had said. The words that had come from his mouth and reached his own ears were “Let them go.” But he couldn’t stop himself from knowing that there was a different meaning behind them. The way his voice shook when he had said the last word was evidence enough that he wasn’t just telling himself to forget the people he had depended upon. And for every time that sentence was silently uttered within, his own mind echoed back what he had really been saying.
“Goodbye.”
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