A frown set on my face as I observed the other kids out there having fun. My eyebrows furrowed even more in question as I wondered to myself about how today's rainy, gloomy day could bring out toothy grins from individuals who were anything but cheerful themselves.

Another excitement-filled cheer sounded from a distance as the kids playing basketball scored a hoop yet again. I rolled my eyes. Losers.

I got up, dusting my jeans off from the dirt that accumulated in the short duration I sat down and pulled my hood further to cover my entire head as I prepared to jog my way through to the tree ahead while attempting to evade the rather distasteful rain.

My day was even further ruined as I felt my socks soak into a brown, muddy puddle right on the way.

Biting down a gag, I brought my leg out of the puddle to examine the awful situation with my very own eyes despite knowing what I was to expect.

Looked just as terrible as it felt.

A strong urge to flip the world around me built in me. My self control, once again, saved the day.

The jog had come to a halt as the squeaky sound of water being squashed with the feeling of a sloppy mesh under my feet defeated any purpose of getting to shelter early. My hands found their way into my pockets as they do by habit and I sulked my way through the rest of my very non-adventurous journey.

In anger, to Mother Nature, of course, for bringing my worst enemy onboard to a fight on the battlefield without my protective armor, every movement of mine came out sharp and abruptly as I almost threw my shoes and socks off the second I sat under the tree to get rid of that ugly, wet feeling.

A sigh rose from the depths of my soul as I realized that I was going to have to wait here for the rain to subdue before I made my way home. I settled my school bag, shrugging it off from my shoulders realizing I was going to be here for a while.

While some people enjoyed lurking on school grounds after school hours, I wanted nothing more than peace and solitude to myself, with loud music drowning the noise of humans and everything related to them.

Humans.

What a weird species to exist.

Backstabbing creatures who I don't want anything to do with.

I picked up a pebble lying idle on the ground, being hit by a steady wash of water, and built up my strength to throw it as far as I could.

There was no reason.

Old habits do die hard.

Involuntarily, my mind replayed moments of the day and I shut my eyes to get rid of them.

The constant shouting, the constant staring, the constant rumors. . .

I hate it. I hate every bit of it.

I also hate rain. And obviously, since I hate it, it was to go on longer than usual.

Again, my parents and my unfortunate classmates' voices poked into my head invading my privacy. Those annoying, irritating, and useless voices.

Today was Tuesday, the 31st of October, which meant that today was the day my father was to pick up my little brother and take him along for the next week.

And as scheduled, he did come. Just. . .abnormaly early.

My father, the one who I haven't quite spent as much time with, due to the very ugly and toxic relationship my parents shared, was never one to care about others too much. To him, his ego, work, and dominance was top-most priority. It was, hence, exactly that that drove the two of them to an ugly divorce.

But when it came to his younger son, his heart had always melted.

Initially, I used to feel jealous. Annoyed that he never loved me, his firstborn, as much, if at all, as he did his younger one. Annoyed that I was never enough. Annoyed that I was brought up without a sense of belonging.

But eventually, the hatred dimmed down as I witnessed the love my father would have for his son, fighting all odds to get even a glimpse of his youngest. I appreciated that. Even if not for me, at least he cared about someone. In fact, I'd often pity his state and vulnerability that he'd make visible in his desperate situation.

Alas, I was only a bystander.

Dad came home at 4 in the morning, demanding to take away his four-year-old, unaware, and very deep in sleep son. I could tell by the aggressive ringing of the doorbells and the booming voice echoing around the halls of our one-floored apartment.

I remember my heart thumping for a solid thirty minutes as my eyes flew open in panic with thoughts such as intruders and kidnappers running through my mind. Soon enough, there were two voices shouting at each other, which funnily enough slowed my heart rate as confirmation checked by me.

My grip on my brother's tiny hand tightened as my heart ached as I realized my brother was in the middle of this mess and I attempted to cover his ears with my hands as I snuggled closer to him to allow him to get his due sleep time.

Who was he to bear the expenses of a failed marriage?

That was pretty much the entirety of our morning. Three hours were spent on the argument between my mom and dad upon how my dad was being unreasonable by coming at unacceptable hours and that he was ruining her life, while my dad defended his position claiming he wanted to make every bit of his week with his son count.

It had been over three years and yet, the scene felt like a repeat telecast every alternate week. My heart had turned cold as my mind forced it to shut and kill hopes of any parental love amongst the two with mom busy bearing the costs of living, and dad neglecting my existence.

I used to blame it on the way I was until I put a stop to the thinking and gave his words the exact neglect he showed me. He didn't care for me, and I didn't for him. And exactly that turned into a mutual agreement within time.

A quiet sneeze brought me back from the downfall of my memories and I shook my head, thankful and quick to take in any distraction.

However, my scowl only deepened as I realized the voice came from right behind the tree I sat against.

I leaned my head farther back to get a look at who it was behind me and there it was.

The 'it' was a girl.

I watched in curiosity, trying to figure out who she was, as she hid her face in the elbow of her arm as her second sneeze fell upon her.

And a third.

And a fourth.

My eyebrows quirked up in disbelief as her quiet sneeze went on for the fifth and sixth time too. I'd never seen someone have so many sneezes consecutively.

She rubbed her red nose with her index finger and brought a tissue to it, blowing hard onto it.

Just then, however, she caught my eye.

I hurried to my original spot, scolding myself for exposing my usually stealthy cover like that. I placed my socks in a small, separate compartment of my bag and decided to shove my feet into the wet shoes just like that as it was the only alternative I could think of.

All I wanted to do was run away and act as if someone did not just catch me staring at them sneeze, but that hope was destroyed as someone squeaked out behind me,

"Hey."