People fear death because it's nothing more than a mystery among the livings.
In most of people's imaginations, death's a cold and dark feeling. For a handful, it's a cloaked faceless man.
But for Alexandra Evans, death was just a life style.
That night, it was raining again; just like always. Right at that desperate moment, Alexandra stood at the edge of the cliff, losing her eyes down to the rough waters of the river.
Her racked nerves right then was in a state that no pleasures excite them agreeably.
But nevertheless, she waited in the darkness of the night as she watched her breath evaporate into mist in the frosty air.
"Hey." someone called and so she decided to look over her shoulders, stealing a glance at him; at the man she had found love with longer than she even knew. "The boat is ready." He announced. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Of course I'm sure." She finally got herself to turn around, facing him.
Turning on her heels, she walked slowly toward the boy and cupped his cheeks with her trembling hands. She leaned forward, and kissed his warm lips gently.
"I love you."
In Alexandra's thoughts, normal was impossible. She believed that 'a normal, happy life' didn't exist at all.
But then again, what was the definition of normal?
Alexandra sought the answer of that question for a long time, but she couldn't understand it in any way; for she had never got the chance to experience it.
Not since she had opened her eyes for the first time. Or what she thought was her first time.
When she opened her eyes, she had no memories about whomever she was, as if she were given a new life.
But along the path of finding about her blurred past, Alexandra found herself wondering whether she even wanted that sort of life; a world of misery, where your only excuse to like the night, was the fact that it could lead you to yet another repetitious day.
Somewhere that only the sound of dropping rain could brew the hope inside your heart. But that was just enough for surviving. It could never give you the opportunity to actually live.
All Alexandra ever desired was to keep smiling as she grew old next to the people she deemed worthy to share her happiness with.
But everything she knew about herself was a lie, which made her wonder if those people whom she loved was merely a part of that same lie, or perhaps a bigger one.
The first memory which made its way back to her, was the way she felt toward things.
She believed that there was a rhythm to everything that happened around her. And these rhythms, these elements of music, were the first things which made her feel.
To her, any sign of music playing around her –the ceaseless drops of rain, the rapid heartbeats, or even the desperate footsteps- were a reminder of love.
But as the time passes, Alexandra finds herself falling slowly and deeply in love with the most unexpected person in the most inappropriate time.
She finds passion, but it makes her ask herself if this love was another part of that lie.
For someone like her whose life was built on the base of mystery itself, it was natural that she had become as paranoid as she could ever be, looking for the truth among the lies.
But who was the true liar and who was the real lover?
A rainy night ended it all. So, to her logic, it only made sense if everything had started with yet another rainy day.