Pluviophiles

Part 1

That afternoon the Cumulonimbus cloud did not appear, but drops of water fell to the surface. I just got home from school, just picked up my bike in the parking lot in front of my school.

A bunch of my classmates went hand in hand, only I was alone with no friends. Sometimes I'm embarrassed when I'm in class or other people look at me strangely, I know what that view means.

After I lined up to pick up the bike, after I tried not to listen to the tweets from them they deliberately talked about me and laughed at me standing alone without any friends talking.

Sometimes do not think with them, whether to talk about the frontal person in public.

I started riding my bike home, the road slippery because of the rain. I began to be careful because the streets were also damaged, there were many holes.

Unaware my bike was starting to drift and I slipped, my bike fell until I fell down too.

There was no one to help, I stood on my own withstanding the pain of the wounds on my legs and hands, my bike was all abrasive and I began to shed tears. I also felt a pain in the chin that there was a wound there.

I got up, I got back on my bike wanting to go home. The glass of my helmet I closed I cried silently.

Why does the rain hate me and hurt me. But no, I love the rain falling in love with the rain I think the rain is a tranquilizer that accompanies my sadness.

After arriving home.

I parked my bike in the garage, knocked on the door and said hello

"Assalamualaikum, Mah I'm home. I fell off the bike, My feet were abrasive" I called my mama.

Mom was cooking and was shocked when she heard from me.

"Where let mama see, yes pardon it blisters a lot so. here mama medicine." Mama started busy taking P3K at home.

Mama started to clean the wound before it was treated.

"So there's a nolongin?" Ask mom

I just shook my head, "No one, there was just a passer-by at aja" I said occasionally grimacing as mama began to drip red medicine into my wound.

"Hardon me, I don't have the compassion of the person, I hope he if it falls there is a nolingin" Mama bergetan when she knows it.

"What a heck, gapapa. It's also not bad, I can still ride a motorcycle until home. Thank you, ma'am" I tried to calm down.

"Judah there, change clothes and keep resting. Mama finish cooking for a minute."

Open the Window and enjoy the soothing sound of the rain. Playing music on my phone and closing my eyes, my heart is calm.

I took the phone, opened the camera and photographed the wounds on my legs and hands.

Pressing the WhatsApp App and making a Snap there with the photo earlier I added Caption Next time be careful.

Just a few minutes I blinded Snap a lot of friends who sent messages

wh why?

fell where?

The accident?

How did it happen?

I was surprised because one of the friends who always bullied me in class also asked me how I was. I think he still has a conscience.

after one by one message I answered, it turns out they just want to know they don't care. My heart hurts after seeing the story' my friend who made Screenshot chat was talking about me who just fell. I had read and still remember once when my friend typed a message on their own grub. more or less this should we be grateful anyway, finally he was given the punishment. Sukurin tuh his new motorbike must be scuffed all, Crash deh suh people songong.

I asked, what is my fault? what makes them hate me? didn't I ever apologize? Oh, maybe my mistake was so fatal that it wasn't forgiven, even though I don't know what really happened.

*Sometimes we have to accept reality, those who ask questions don't mean they care can just want to know.

---

**Hey, come back.

hopefully in this part you like the same story.I'm sorry there is still a little conversation because I take the core of the story that I have experienced.

don't forget to give advice and criticism through coment, and don't forget to like if you like.

HOPE YOU LIKE, THANKS 🙏***

🙏