Laughter in the rain

“Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens

Brown paper packages tied up with strings

These are the few of my favorite thing."

Carla hums that song as she watches the raindrops outside her window. She quietly shivers with the low temperature and as her eyes set unexpectedly on the scar on her arms. That scar came from being too happy. She recalls that one memorable afternoon of boisterous laughter, sweaty little bodies, hyperactive and flexible movements with her friend.

“Carla, chase after me.” Rolly said to her.

“Woah, are you challenging me?” She asked proudly.

“Yeah, let’s see if you can beat me!”

“Game!”

They run after each other, not even bother if they sometimes fall. Girls will cheer for Carla and the boys, nonetheless for Rolly. Playground---literally turned out to be an adventure spot for these two kids. They possess that time, as Carla thought, but their silliness and cheerfulness had its limit when Carla’s mom—a very strict teacher gripped her hand as she looked hostile to her daughter. 

The children looked shocked with their teacher’s action.

“Why are you running after that little boy?” Her mom angrily asked.

“Mom, we’re just playing since its recess time.” She shockingly answered.

“How many times did I tell you to lock inside the library and study-- How many times?”

Carla didn’t answer back.

She remembers how her mom strikes a thick ruler on her arms—leaving her in crippling pain.  While looking at the scars, she knows that her sweet memory about herself and her mother fades.

Is she growing up stiffly without any reason to find joy?

Is she meant to tire herself in a small room without any chance to roam in a playground?

And on that night, the 12-year old girl went out from her house. She ran in the rain, the way she chased Rolly. The raindrops sound like the laughter of his classmate. She tiptoed and danced circling in the shower. All she wanted is to play in the rain as part of her favorite thing…And she appreciates again the two lost years of boring and restricting herself.

Carla's not aware that her grandma saw her—she called her and said, “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes, grandma.” She answered with a twinkling eyes and smile.

She won’t forget that night.

She would always remember the rain.

She’ll always laugh like she once did in a playground.

She’ll be carrying the scars, but not the wound anymore.

"When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad"

Her grandma sang to her while wrapping a towel on her wet shirt.

Google photo

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