Work Text:
A girl stands in the rain, fresh from another breakup. She grips the fabric of the left side of her chest, and presses her lips together, loud swallowing and soft sobs blanketed by the comforting pitter patter of the rain. She walks home slowly, head down, thoughts lost in the darkness.
She can hear them whispering about her, calling her a whore, a slut, a selfish beast that deserves no love at all.
She keeps her head down.
All she wants is love.
Is that wrong, for someone to search for their "special someone"?
There is the saying that "God helps those who help themselves" in this country, so why is society a nonconformist to its own saying?
Thoughts swirl in the girl's chaotic mind, swamped with questions all beginning with why why why why whywhywhywhywhy
whyddheleavemewhyaretheyallcallingmethatdididosomethingwrongagainisthatitiwonderwhytheyreallwhisperingwhenimrighthere
She keeps walking, the tap of her soaked 'special occasion' high heels unheard within the roar of the rain.
A new day, a new search.