Saving Rain

by Kelsey Kingsley

Dear Rain, Today, they moved me from laundry duty to the kitchen again. I like the kitchen, so I’m cool with it. Laundry gave me too much time to think and get trapped inside my own head. You’d think I’d feel like that about cleaning, but I don’t. Cleaning is relaxing. There’s instant gratification for the work you’ve done. You can see your progress as it’s happening. But laundry? Hell no. All I can do is load the machines and watch them spin while my mind plummets into places better left untouched. It’s too monotonous, you know? Kitchen duty is better. I get to hang with a couple of the guys I like and eat as much of the food as I want. Not that the food is great, but you get used to it. Anyway, one of the guys on the kitchen crew asked about my scar, and I thought about you. It’s a little crazy, isn’t it? Of all the shit I’ve been through, the one thing that marked me for life was a direct result of saving you. And I’m glad for it. I’m glad for this scar. Because every time I look at it or touch it or someone asks about it, I get to remember all over again that I am capable of doing something good without it ending in someone else’s pain. And if I tell myself that enough, maybe, one day, I’ll start to believe it. Soldier P.S. Oh, and he thought my scar was pretty badass, like I’m some kind of gallant hero or something, and for once, I agreed.