Bleach: Memories In The Rain Novels & Stories

“If I look away, it might stop.” “That’s not how rain works.” She almost smiled at that, but the expression never reached her eyes. Across the city, in a quiet study lined with dark wood and memory, Beatrice Whitmore paused mid step. She had been reviewing seating arrangements for the upcoming memorial. Names. Placements. The careful choreography of power and grief. Her hand froze over the parchment as she registered the sound against the tall windows. Rain. Her breath left her slowly, reverently. She closed her eyes.

Only fragments. The smell of rain. A woman in a white dress at the bar. A single tear glistening on her cheek. Then another flash — headlights, screeching tires, a shout. My chest tightens as pain rips through my ribs. The memory burns bright for a second before fading again into nothing. I don’t know how long I’ve been here — drifting between the past and the present, between life and something else. But then I hear her again. Softer this time. Closer.

And it did work, I didn't notice that I survived that day without being jealous of the others for that whole day. The next painting on the other corner still on the left side shows a bunch of broken things. An eyeglass, vase, face mirror, and a phone that has flooded with unread messages. Only the phone has the blood on it. This is the painting I made the day my parents told me that I will be engaged to someone.

tanong bigla ng isang malalim na boses sa tabi niya. “I'm thinking about the rain..” wala sa wisyo niyang sagot habang nakatulala pa rin sa ulan. “Why?” tanong pa nito sakaniya. “Because.. somehow the rain reminds me of him.” “Him? Who's him?” “The guy I lost..” sambit niya habang dahan dahang lumilingon sa tabi niya.

But I’m done playing by anyone’s rules but my own. I uncork the vial. A scent like ozone and rain fills the white space. Without another thought, I throw my head back and drink. The effect is not gentle. It’s a thunderclap inside my skull. The white void shatters into a kaleidoscope of screaming color—crimson rage, the cold blue of calculated cruelty, the blinding white of a forgotten pain. A name echoes from the depths, not my own, a title spoken in whispers and screams by a thousand voices:

Raindrops fell from the dark gloomy sky as if crying for a fallen angel. Her funeral was full of tears. She was well loved by many. People wept, wailed, and screamed. She was gone too soon, too early. I scanned through the crowd and saw unfamiliar faces drenched in misery; except for one— jet-black hair and eyes of silver-grey stared blankly as her coffin was slowly lowered down six feet underground.

I wish he could see that all I ever want is to be left alone. I prefer peace because it’s my coping mechanism. I am always fighting a memory battle in my head and there are times I feel like the more I try, the more I'm drowning further down, drifting away from who I am. It’s always useless and frustrating, but I never stop because I need to remember badly. Most of it is the fact that every night I have the same stupid dream. I dread shutting my eyes because the dream feels like it’s wired in my skull to torment me.

, I took out the phone from the pocket of my blazer coat as I dialled Naomi's number. She picked up in two rings. "What? I don't want to talk to a man like you.", she barked. I didn't find a need to clarify so I directly came to the point. "What is Rain's blood group?", I asked. "A+", She stated. "But why?", she asked. "Come to the Central Hospital. Rain tried dying by suicide.", I said as I cut the call. "A+", I stated to the nurse. I wanted to go inside but she asked me to wait.

This time, I wasn't gonna let history repeat itself. This time, I was living for me. I said flatly, "It wasn't me, so why should I apologize?" My voice was steady and calm, not weak or scared. The room went still. For the first time, my parents and Audrey looked at me in shock and fear, as if they were surprised that the quiet rabbit they'd kept in a cage all these years had suddenly turned around and bitten them.

I really love you. Through the lines, I only read his reluctance. Without hesitation, I blocked the number that I could recite even in my dreams. On the wedding day, Colin, covered in blood, crawled across the road and blocked our path. Through the car window, I saw him drag himself toward us. He shouted, "Selena, help me! I regret it so much. Come and see me." It was a horrific scene, making me jump. Lucien quickly covered my eyes. "Don't be scared. I'll have someone take him away."