Hope
Missing the Rain

It’s raining. The skies are grey, and the streets are filled with the roaring of water as the clouds release the heaven-sent load.

“Quick! Everyone, grab your clothes,” I call, gathering up both mine and Charlie’s old rags.

Together the four of us make our way into the alleyway, gasps and giggling making me smile as we strip from our week-old clothes and rinse them while dancing in various states of undress. The children take turns with the meagre bit of soap, scrubbing at their skin and hair as the rain pelts down from above, rinsing away the grime.

I laugh as one of the little girls jumps in a puddle, splashing her friends with water as they squeal in delight.

Thank the heavens there’s finally rain.

Charlie happily bounces in my lap, slapping his tiny hands against my arms with soft splats. I can’t let him get too cold, but a soothing shower is exactly what everyone needed; something to wash away the days and let us start again.

~~~

The shower is big enough to fit seven of me. Shower heads of all sizes litter the tiled section, human taps jutting out of the wall. At least twenty types of shampoo bottles line the built-in shelf, all of different scents and uses.

I’ve never seen anything like it. I didn’t know showers could exist like this!

I’m guessing Caster may be the one responsible for all of the different shower bottles, obviously trying to please the next human to work under the Mirker’s care. I was happy as soon as the shower turned on! I didn’t need the fancy soaps or the shampoos that spelt like mangoes and coconuts. I’m just happy I can finally be clean.

The only problem I do have, however, is the fact I don’t have any clean clothes. It would be counterproductive to put on the pair of clothes I’d brought with me. I definitely didn’t have any fancy work clothes or slacks to wear as a uniform instead. It’s not like the Humanism Department actually prepared me to work inside someone’s home.

Standing in the bathroom, towel wrapped around my waist, I let the water drip down my face as I look around the spacious room, still in awe. The tiles are white, marbled with what looks like mother of pearl. The ceiling has lights that produce heat, and a full length mirror stands to one side. It’s the most beautiful bathroom I’ve ever seen.

I sigh as I unlock the door, bravely stepping out into the room Aliston gave to me in nothing more than a towel. Maybe I can flag Caster down to lend me some of his clothes?

The room is just as spotless as I left it, my patched-up backpack sitting in a crumpled heap in one of the corners. Shuffling towards it, I stop in surprise when I see clothes neatly folded at the end of the bed. A pair of brown pants and a white button-down shirt waiting for me.

They look brand new and for a moment I feel a pang of guilt eating at my stomach for wanting to keep them as my own, but I’m not about to refuse Aliston’s generosity. I need new clothes. I need to look a little presentable for this job. I’m literally living in a mansion!

Picking them up, I let my fingers run over the soft fabric and lift them to take a whiff of the clean citrus scent that rolls off of them. I don’t have any shoes that will be presentable enough to wear with these clothes, and my socks are a little too holey, but I can always ask Caster about that later. Aliston did mention him being my go-to man.

Slipping into the clothes and ruffling my hair with the towel, I take another look at my room, admiring the massive bed and the floor to ceiling windows. It’s something out of a dream.

A grin slips onto my face and with a childish running leap, I crash down onto the bed, twisting so I land on my back. The quilt and pillows fly up, letting me sink into the mattress that encases itself around my body in a puff of clean sheets.

It feels blasphemous to be indulging myself in such luxury.

To the left of me, on the bedside table, a little stand with one of those glass tablets sits. Aliston said he wrote up a timetable of sorts for me, so I suppose he would have put it on that thing. I’ve never used one before, they’re something only the upper class have access to, the technology a gift from the aliens when they first arrived.

Rolling over, I gently pick it up, turning it over in my hand to look for any type of button. There’s nothing. It just looks like a piece of glass with rounded edges.

I lay on my stomach, hands brushing over the glass until a little beep greets my ears, a little green arrow appearing on the screen. Pressing it, I gently slide my finger across in the direction of the arrow. The glass turns opaque, multicoloured squares popping up on the screen. I’m not sure what any of them say, the labels beneath the colours too small for me to read, but I take a guess and press the small orange square that as a picture of a pen on it.

The screen changes. A list appears, dot points at the beginning of every sentence and numbers line the edges. I suppose those are the times, and from what I can read from the jumble of words, this appears to be Lavere’s schedule.

I know some letters. I just never had the time to learn how to put them all together. Living on the streets meant learning to fight and steal, not read and write.

“At, e-eight, you will wake,” I pause, mulling over the letters that don’t seem to make much sense stuck together, “L-lavere?”

It must be the little baby’s name. The spelling is odd, and I’m not too sure that I’m pronouncing it correctly, but it is an alien name.

“What are you doing?”

I startle, head whipping to the side as I scramble to sit up from my sprawled position.

Avørek stands at my door, arms crossed as he leans against the doorframe.

“Uh, I’m- I’m reading,” I say, heat flushing to my cheeks at being caught.

“Reading? That’s how you human’s read?”

Shame bubbles in my chest, but I shove it back down. There’s no point in feeling sorry for myself. I had other priorities growing up, I didn’t have the time to go to school and learn.

I shrug in response to him, not really having anything to say about my lack of reading ability.

He rolls his eyes. “I came to tell you that my father is giving you the rest of the day off. So, you can do whatever you want. Caster will take care of Lavere,” he says, flicking his hair behind him.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

Avørek snorts, eyes following me as I climb from the bed. He only leaves my doorway once I’m awkwardly standing in my room, the glass tablet still in my hand.

Just as I take a seat on the edge of my bed, shoulders sagging in relief at his leave, Caster comes bouncing into my room.

“Emery!” He smiles, skipping over to me.

I smile at him, patting the bed beside me for him to take a seat. He does so, kneeling on the plush comforter as he holds out an egg-shaped device, little lights and buttons decorating it.

“What’s this?”

He grins with a mouth full of sharp teeth. “This for you to hear Lavere. When cry.”

I carefully take the offered object, my hands wandering over the surface in curiosity. It didn’t look like any other baby monitor or speak I’ve ever seen, but I suppose I should start to get used to seeing alien technology in use around here.

Caster bounces on the bed again, a childish glee about him as he chirps to himself before bouncing off.

“I will get food now. Bye, bye!” He makes some sort of high-pitched clicking noise as he skips out of my room, darting away like he was never here in the first place.

He’s a bit of an odd one, but he seems happy that I’m here, unlike Aliston and Avørek. The other two aliens seem indifferent, which I suppose isn’t such a bad thing. It means they can tolerate my existence at the very least. Caster, on the other hand, seems absolutely thrilled he has someone else to talk to. His smiling and energetic behaviour reminds me of a child on a sugar high. He reminds me of home.

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