• Rain, Rain, Go Away, and Never Come Again

    'Okay, your time starts now,' as the teacher spoke, everyone's pens and pencils danced along the faint blue line on the paper. We were writing our 'memories'. I knew what I was going to write. The pen moved along the page, as fast as lightning. I began.

    "It was a rainy day almost two years ago. I was home all by myself. I watched the tears of the sky fall down. The lightning flashed on and off, as if it was an alarm. Something was going to happen. I knew it. Then, without a warning, a white thing hit my bedroom window. It then fell straight down like a piece of lead. I tried to look at it through the windows. All I could see was a fence. The place where the white thing feel was a blind spot.

    Curiosity pounced over me. I rushed out of the house without an umbrella, just to see what it was. The rain continued. I saw something like a white cloth-something soft. I kneeled before it. I saw a pair of black beady eyes staring at me. I stared back. It wasn't moving, but it was alive. It was a white dove that hit my window. I slowly but carefully picked the bird up. He didn't struggle or tried to run. He stayed in my hand. I rushed back to the house. The rain was merciless, trying to hit the bird with thousands and millions of needles. I used my body as a shield.

    I found a towel inside, and dried the bird. His feathers were almost-completely-spotless, pure white. What did he do that the God wants to punish him? His beady eyes moved around the room, then fixed onto me, as if saying thank you. I smiled back. He was injured. I felt the sudden responsibility of sheltering him.

    I asked my parents how to look after a dove. I went on the internet to search for it too. I fed the dove rice during his stay. He was just too cute."

    My hands were getting tired, and my writing became slower. I need a rest from writing. I turn my pen with my fingers to exercise my fingers, and then started again.

    "The dove was really curious. He pecked whatever he was interested in. One day, he got tangled in a ball of wool. He tried so hard to fight it off. After a long time of struggle and a bit of help from me, he escaped. I wondered when he would be able to fly again. Clearly he enjoyed being in the air.

    God had mercy. The dove's wings healed so quickly. I found out that he could fly again one day when I came back from the school, the next door neighbour's cat tried to eat my dove. No matter how many times the fat ginger blob pounced on him, he would escape, just like that. He was clearly having fun, as he fluttered around the cat's head like a butterfly flying around a flower. The cat disappeared after a while.

    Dad thought it was time for the dove to go, since he can fly now. I complained at first but he persuaded me. It was the best for my dove. The dove watched us quietly as we talked about his future. When the time came to release him, he refused to go. Dad violently snatched the bird and threw him. He pulled my arm, and we went back home. The dove flied above our house for an hour, the finally left.-I thought that would be the end of the story..."

    I stopped again on writing. I did not want to write the next part, but this tale deserves to be told. I believed my little dove want to be known. I forced my hands to move the pen.

    "It was another rainy day, few weeks later. The rain was heavier than last time, but the sky wasn't crying. It was celebrating something. Clouds gathered around for a chat and lightning danced around the sky. It was a party. The sun decided not to attend.

    I looked out the window. I kind of hoped to see the dove again. I sighed. No, he wasn't going to appear. Clash! Something hit the window, and fell down onto the ground. My bird! I picked up an umbrella and rushed outside. I saw my little bird. He wasn't moving. He wasn't white anymore. His feathers were dyed the colour of blood and mud. His beady eyes were barely recognisable. I rushed towards him and kneeled down. I smelt death in the air.

    The lightning danced, and fireworks were released. The sky was celebrating the death of a little dove. 'You are so mean...' I whispered to them. The rain stopped a moment to listen to me, but I spoke nothing more. They killed my dear little white dove..."

    I stopped writing for the final time. I looked out the window. The day was so bright. The sun was smiling to the world. There were no clouds in the sky. A white butterfly fluttered around an orange flower in the garden. I watched it. The butterfly flew higher, higher, higher...I followed it with my gaze. The butterfly then flew by the side of the smiling sun.