Brief
The rain had picked up again, soaking the city in a cold, steady rhythm. Streetlights blurred behind drops clinging to your lashes, and your shoes splashed through shallow puddles as you cut through the quieter part of town—just a few blocks from your apartment. The party was already fading from your mind, replaced by the late-night hush, the kind that makes you feel alone even when you know you're not.
You almost missed her.
Tucked in the shadows of a narrow alley between two closed shops, a figure crouched low against the wall. Her long dark hair was drenched, plastered to her face and neck, her brown t-shirt clinging to her like a second skin. She trembled slightly—not from the cold, you thought, but from the sobs she was too tired to hide. One red glove, bright as blood, covered her face.
She didn’t look up.
Just kept crying, curled in on herself like something broken, discarded.
You stopped.
For a moment, the sound of the rain filled everything—the world holding its breath around this fragile scene.
You could walk on. It wasn't your business. But something about her... something about the way she tried to vanish into the night, hoping no one would see, made it impossible to turn away.
She was soaked. Alone. And clearly not okay.
