I heard whispers in the rain. It made me walk a little faster; my pace ran out of sync with the splashing of the puddles and I heard the whispers again. Was it a voice calling out? Perhaps trying to get my attention? I looked over my shoulder as I walked down the damp sidewalk. I saw nothing in the rain but the headlights of slow-passing cars. Turning my eyes forward, I quickened my stride.
Water beaded and rolled off my coat but some droplets managed to soak my hair and drench my glasses under a hood that may have been slightly too small. The rain came down heavy and rivers ran along the curbs and flowed down into the storm drains. Through the rushing of the rainfall, I heard the whispers again. I jerked my head over my shoulder once more and needed to squint as I was briefly blinded by more hurried headlights. When my vision focused, I saw it standing by the bus stop that sat across the street.
It stood there transparently; tall and bloated with a contorted smile. It was whispering to me but I could not hear any words. Maybe I didn't understand? I stood in the rain. It stood in its place too, like a statue in a park. And it felt like an eternity went by until another car with blaring headlights splashed water from the road up to my waterlogged shoes. But my ruined shoes no longer seemed so critical. Two beady little eyes, whispering, straight into me. But I didn't understand. It tipped its head to the side and bared its smiling teeth wider, sending scrambled signals in the storm.
"What do you want from me?" I screamed at whatever I was looking at and it remained unfazed. It kept standing at the bus stop and smiling in the rain. For some reason, I felt like I couldn't walk away from this. I could hear the whispers. The damn whispering filled me and begged for me to step forward. I stared at the strange whisperer through my fogged lenses and for an abrupt moment, I thought I understood.
It reached out to me, not just with its whispering, but with its own two arms; they reached out for me. An embrace and a kind smile awaited just across the flooded street. When I stepped out on the road, I felt the fallen rain water fill my shoes and immerse my socks completely. It was cold and there was no turning back. I took another step forward to meet the whisperer when I heard a thundering sound behind me. And when I halted in place to turn back to look, a sudden set of headlights rushed by next to me, almost striking me down into the river of a road.
I caught my breath and regained my composure as I realized I had almost gotten hit by a car. I looked up to the enchanting whisperer but to my surprise, there was nothing there. No beady eyes, no crooked smile, no warm embrace. Just the frigid rain. Had it tried to kill me? Had it somehow compelled me to step out to meet death? Did it want my life to end at the punch of a fast car in the middle of a hurricane? And as I wondered about this, something else caught my attention. What was it that had saved me?