Rain. It nurtures and destroys, protects and betrays. It is a source of life, and it continues to fall on a life lost to the hands of a friend. You lie on cold cement, the light fading from your eyes. Blood seeps out of the wound that you are dying from to mingle with the water collecting on the ground around you.
A figure stands over you, a bloody knife hanging loosely in his hand. His eyes are dead and cold; unfeeling. He had been your ally, your friend. But he was like the rain; he had betrayed you in your final hour; turned upon you when you least expected.
As the world around you fades, ghostly music reaches your ears, drawing you away from the world you knew; away from the life that turned against you, ending like a tragedy from the stage of Shakespeare.
As you take a final breath, your life flashes before your eyes, and you relive the events that led to this final moment, this end to your story.
It all started with the rain…