First week, Sunday

I got myself some new books. Great. New homework. New pages to memorise... Just great! This summer is getting even more tiring than school days. I cannot believe I just said that since this is supposed to be my “exiting eighteen years old holiday”. How am I supposed to find my unrequired love interest at this rate?

I am by myself, lookig at a black screen. My parents and siblings are out sleeping since a while back, and here I am listening to the rain hitting onto the windows. For some reason I decide to turn off the lights. I lay down to the ground and wait. Do not ask what am I waiting for: I do not know either, but I wait. The sound of the rain is so beautiful.

I get up. I go to the small room my sister is sleeping in and get a hold of those new books, a pen and some paper. I take them back to where I was sitting before; however, this time I go towards the stairs. Maybe I thought the heat was gone due to the heavy rain...

The attic is even warmer than I had imagined. The rain is so loud and the lighnings so intense that I can see the whole room though the lights are off. I do not have the energy to prepare the bed properly. The carpet is cozy enought: I place down the yellow blanket and rest my head on the round pillow my mother brought when she was waiting for my first sister. It has the same sweet smell as her. My home scent. It reminds me of the times I sneaked into my aunt's closet to get a glimpse of that unforgettable fragrance I could only smell once a year or two.

It is so confortable, yet I cannot fall asleep. I'd like a friend to share my thoughts with. Someone I could share this moment with. A thougth crosses my mind: “I have to write it”. I get up rashly. Without even turning on the lights I pick up the pen and start writing on a random page. I cannot even see my own hand but do know by the form I wrote it:

“I want a friend I can watch the storm with”.