FuriousNomad

It's raining again. It's always raining, and nobody's noticed.  I only started paying attention to it in the last few days.

There's a lot of things I hadn't noticed before that which are becoming clear.  Like the fact that it's always November.  Like the fact that the same shows are always on TV.  Like the fact that nobody leaves town.

I'd planned on leaving a few weeks ago, heading west from Conneaut to catch the late fall foliage on the drive down to Cleveland.  The first time, my shifts got switched around at work so I couldn't do it.  The next weekend, it was raining and it didn't seem worth it.  Last weekend, after planning it and getting everything ready, I just forgot.  Simply didn't remember I was going, and spent the weekend watching old TV shows instead.  That's when I started noticing things.

Nobody else does.  Nobody else cares.  When I try to talk to them about it, they get bored or distracted.  I told myself I had to get out of here.  I'm meant to be at work right now, but I'm driving west on I-90, October Rust on the stereo.

One mile past the turn off for Ashtabula, I pull over to the side of the road and get out.  I look up at the grey sky for a while, wondering when we last had a clear day.  Then, I get back in the car to go home.

Then it hits me.  I've been turned round again.  I was going to leave and something stopped me.  This time it was a lot more direct.  So direct I noticed it.  I want to keep driving west, but something won't let me even turn the ignition.  It's then that I notice there's someone in the car with me.

She's wearing a white dress.  I can't describe it.  When I think of it in my head I see the words "white dress" rather than what it looks like.  I don't move.  I can't.  I can speak, though, and I do.

"You've got to stop."

She says it like it's words on a page in my head.  I should ask her what she's doing, I should freak out about the stranger in my car, but it's like I decide I don't want to.

"Stop what?" I say in a voice calmer than I feel.
"Trying to leave.  Nobody tries as much as you.  It's taking all we can do to keep you safe."

I turn to look at her and it's like there's a space where her face should be.  It's not like her face is blank, that would have stuck in my mind.  It's not like anything is missing, just that nothing sticks, no detail or description.

Suddenly I want to get out of the car, so I do.  I've no idea why I wanted to, except the suspicion that she made me.  When I get out, she's standing next to me again.

"We're sorry, but you have to go back.  There are so few of you. We saved all we could but we lost so many."
"Why don't you want me to go?  What's out there?"

She doesn't answer.  She just looks at me for a moment, and when she speaks again I can hear the emotion in her voice for the first time.

"Nobody but you has been this persistent.  You've tried to leave hundreds of times, but you've never got this far before.  I can't let you go, but I can explain something to you.  This is why it's always raining."

I look up at the grey midday sky, and the rain stops.  The clouds part for a moment.

There's no blue, no sun.  There's just clouds, and somewhere far above us I see what looks like spotlights.  Somehow I understand.  There is no outside Ashtabula county any more.  There is no sun, there is no sky.  Just a patch of land, alone in space, nothing entering, nothing leaving.

Through the screaming of my thoughts I hear her voice again.

"I'm sorry we couldn't save more."

I get back into the car, turn it around, and start the drive home. When I'm halfway there, I remember that I'd wanted to go west this weekend, check out the fall foliage and the turning of the leaves.

Oh well, maybe next weekend, if it's sunny.