Messages I’m Unable To Send

The raindrops fell fast, and this caused a distinct smell of wet wood. I noticed classmates around me laughing and smiling while I was just stuck here. Shared umbrellas, inside jokes, talking, just enjoying each other’s presence. Something that’s so easy for others but seems impossible for me.

Everything I want to say is a draft of a message I’m unable to send. I plan out everything I want to say in my head, but no words could escape from my mouth. I’m left speechless. My heart opened, mouth closed.

I didn’t bring an umbrella or a jacket, but a part of me didn’t mind getting soaked, like getting drenched in sadness. I took a couple of steps from the school, expecting to feel the rain hit me, but I felt something over me stopping the rain from falling on me. I looked up, noticing an umbrella. A Hello Kitty umbrella?

The umbrella was covering the person’s face, leaving just their school uniform visible.

“I brought this umbrella by mistake; it’s my little sister’s. You look like you need it more. My home is not too far from here,” he said casually.

He brought the umbrella towards me. I took a glimpse at his face and noticed he had a black mask on and wavy hair. I quickly looked down and grabbed the umbrella.

“Thank you,” I said.

I put my hand on my mouth. I spoke? Wait, did I just say thank you? Before I could stop him, he had already run off. I only caught a glimpse of his back.

I looked up at the umbrella. I have to return this to him. The first time I was able to send the message, not just write a draft. Thank you. The first word I’ve spoken in 10 years.

Thank you.