Rain drops keep falling on my head, he hummed softly, feeling the rain cascade down around him. The drops slipped from his soaked auburn hair to stream down his fearful face. He hated the feeling he received when the rain mixed with salty tears, as it traced paths already traveled. Staring at the cracked sidewalk, because why would he watch those happy people under their safe umbrellas, he began to compare it with himself. The most obvious being they were both irrevocably broken, but one could be replaced, the other would remain unchanged for years.

The rain beat down in comforting rhythms; it remained steady as a heartbeat. He thought about forgiving time, which continued to move without his realizations, but it was time's fault that the world kept spinning as he stood still. He should go home, should go somewhere; sitting here he would become ill. But nowhere was where he belonged, and nowhere did not exist. Trapped in his mind, the thoughts drained his sanity; the lyrics from the song he hummed were his last strand of sanity. Slowly he was becoming deranged, and frightened. The bench he sat upon did its best to anchor, but it could not hold for much longer. He continued on humming his song, giving his falling mind something to focus upon.

The numbness was settling in, his eyes running dry, there was still one last breath of sanity before he fell, deadened. The rain suddenly stopped drowning, had he lost all feeling? He could still see it, hear it, he could feel the cold. Where was the rain? He glanced up, his ears finally recognizing the change in sound. The rain now made the sound of hitting plastic; an umbrella had become his sanctuary.

A scrawny, curious looking, girl took the seat beside him, not bothering to ask if it was alright. For a moment he forgot about the rain as she stared intently into his eyes. Her dark brown eyes, wide with interest, and matured by understanding peered into him, prying at his soul. Please stop, he wanted to ask her, the feeling he felt was worse than before, surely it wasn't her eyes doing this. He couldn't help but blame them all the same.

"Why do you cry? Are you lost?" He stared, contemplating his response, and if he were to give her one anyway. She spoke of him like a child, but he took little offense.

"No," He finally managed to answer her, after decades of thinking. "Just waiting to be found."

She closed her eyes and leaned against the bench, her hand still holding the umbrella steady. He took it from her, allowing her arm to drop, as it did, he knew, she was waiting too.