The Story of The Silver Rain (Part One)

The Ending.

Occasionally, a story told would start at the beginning, which would then bring forth beginnings after beginnings. Numerous times have we read books that began this way and perhaps this repetition is getting quite nauseating.
And perhaps this time, a story should begin with an ending.
Not only will this story begin with an ending, it also will begin under, 6 feet under, where a girl of age sixteen lays with her eyes closed. Even if her eyes were open, there was nothing worth beholding in that coffin. Six feet above her, the rain was pouring heavy as the ground rushed to absorb the moisture into the surface of the earth. If the girl six feet under was able to hear, she would think the whole world Earth was mourning for her and her heart could perhaps be happy.
Minutes after minutes, while the rain fall progressed, the number of black umbrellas started to decrease as more and more black shoes treaded the ground to leave the cemetery. The lilies on the patch of ground six feet above the girl were getting ruined by the rain that they looked almost like they were melting and dissolving into the ground to get to the girl. If only she could know how beautiful lilies were.
Soon, no one was left except for the caretaker who was already locking the gates, the breathless girl and hundreds of decomposing bodies surrounding her.
Looking on, from the far corner, behind the fences of the cemetery was a boy; also sixteen, and if you got closer you might see that hint of wildness in his eyes.  He wasn’t holding up an umbrella, nor was he putting on a raincoat. The raindrops soaked through this tee shirt and his baggy jeans. He stood in the rain long enough to feel water in his butt crack. While he stood there, everything around him dematerialised. He wasn’t thinking about the dead girl, no, he was thinking about the one who used to live. He closed his eyes tight to have glimpses of her; her messy hair, her melancholic eyes, and her inability to make her parents happy. He remembered clearly how the living girl was so much, like him.
“Hoi, hujan lah!” Hey, it’s raining! The boy turned to look, he saw the caretaker of the cemetery.  The old man was dressed in a dark blue raincoat and had black shiny rain boots on. The boy looked at the man’s eyes and before caretaker had the chance to say anything, the young boy spun and ran off.
*

The boy repeatedly rang the doorbell, his tee shirt was halfway over his head and under those heavy showers, he shivered. About a few seconds later, the automatic gate started to slide open. He ran in ignoring the splish splosh noises his Vans were making. His socks were soaking wet as well. Just as he was carefully removing his shoes, he heard a women shriek. "Sudah basah lah!" You're all wet!
The women ran back into the house and came back with a large white towel in her hands. She handed the towel to the boy. He looked up and smiled at the maid. "Lu pergi mana ya? Ibu cari." Where have you been? Your mother was looking for you. The boy kept quiet; he handed the towel back and asked her to take his shoes in to get cleaned. The women sighed and did as she was told.

He bent down to take his socks off before entering the house, when he slowly straightened his back, he saw the clock on the wall. 11.27 A.M. He heard the maid asking him if he wanted anything to eat; the boy pretended not to hear and slowly ascended upstairs to his bedroom. Once he latched up the door, he took off every single article of clothing on his body. He looked at himself stark naked in the mirror. "Skinny," he thought to himself. Just then, he felt a cool breeze brushing the back of his neck. The feeling startled him. Without looking around to find the source of that breeze, he jumped onto his bed and pulled the covers over him. With his head buried amongst his pillows, the boy cried.