the rain catchers

"I don’t understand," Virginia was saying quietly. "This insatiable appetite for you own destruction! What does it all really mean? What on earth have you done that makes you punish yourself so much?"

Delaney stared across the room.

"I see," Virginia said. "You were born."

His gaze remained glassy, but the corners of his lips twitched; his grin chilled her. She tried again to take the bottle from her brother. It remained locked in his hand. "Delaney," she pleaded. "I love you, can you see that? I’m scared to death. Everything in you screams of something too divine for this existence. And yet here you are—you look like a monster—have you given up already, Delaney? Say something. Why don’t you say something to me? Is there nothing you care about? What about Emily?"

Then Virginia wasn’t aware of Delaney, nor the room; the only impressions in her mind were those of circles. She saw his body uncoil; his arm swing in a great arc as it propelled his frustrations outward; the bottle, spiraling across the room; it exploded against the wall, fragments shattering outward from a jagged center of dark liquid. Virginia screamed. Then Delaney screamed too; his voice spiraled into hers, so that it seemed he wasn’t screaming at her, but through her.

"God damn you, Virginia! You think you know what’s best for me? You think I don’t already feel her every single instant? You think I need to be fucking reminded of what I’ve become? What! What is it! Don’t look so goddamn afraid! You asked for it, so here it is—me!—me!—me! And that’s the way it is!"

Virginia flung the door open. As she fled down the hall, Delaney screamed obscenities after her. A few guests were wandering through the foyer; they gawked up at him. From the landing, Katherine stopped in midstep and turned her face up to him.

"What!" Delaney screamed at her.

She answered simply, "Nothing. Only you forgot your shoes."

Delaney looked down at his bare feet. All at once he needed to escape. He barreled down the stairs and out the back door. Most of the guests had gone home. It was raining. Delaney stood in his bare feet and bare chest, the raindrops pounding his skin and streaking his face. He stood there for a long time. One by one, the lights of the house behind him went out. The house looked soulless. He might have stood there all night, but at last Katherine drew him in from the rain.

She left him slumped against the wall. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"To bed, of course. It’s late."

"I might have another drink first."

"If you wish."

"You’re not gonna stop me? You’re not gonna help me up the stairs?"

She looked at him slumped on the floor, shivering and wet. He despised the expression on her face; not of disgust or pity, but only indifference.

"You’re a grown man, Delaney. Do what you like."

She started up the stairs.

"Katie," he called after her. "Do you think I’m worthless? Are you disgusted by me?"

"Does it matter?"

"Katie..." He struggled for the right thing to say. "I wasn’t always this way. Once I discovered how to live, but now I forget."

"Then remember." She vanished up the stairwell.

Delaney picked himself up from the floor. In the window he saw a reflection of himself, and stared at it for a long time. Once he’d seen his best friend there, but now he only saw a monster. He stared at his hollowed face and wondered how everything had fallen apart.