To Keep The Memories Alive

Just some little girl who hasn't been alive for a long time. But sometimes it rains, and it brings something beautiful to her life.

Then people move in and suddenly it doesn't stop raining.

Septiplier fanfic don't hate >_<


1. prologue.

I love to watch the night. Simply sitting down on the side of my windowsill, open wide as I swing my leg over the side, watching the night dusk turn into dawn. Smiling as the streetlamps take an orange tinge on the roads and paths below, out shining almost every star in the darkened sky. Watching as the sun set and rose, the time in between, it's mesmerising. Watching as people walk in the dead of night, drunk on either alcohol or love, their all the same. Walking the streets with a dumb smile and shining eyes. Lovers of the night.

Untill one day that changed, and people stopped loving the night.

I never stopped, though. Even when people stopped roaming the streets. Even as people stopped falling in love. I never stopped loving the night. Yet, I never found out why, well, at least not for a long time.

I guess its about time to introduce myself. So, hello. My name is something you don't need to know, but you humans love to know names and ages, sights and sounds. But, I don't have a name. I simply don't remember it. For a long time I've been dead, wandering the halls of the human world, picking and choosing lives to watch. I spent years, eventually, just watching the night. Watching the rain, oh God do I love the rain. It's beautiful. The one thing left of the human world that I can feel the sensation of, dripping down my skin in a cascading waterfal of calm, cooling drops of rain.

It was the last thing I loved when I died. It was the last thing I ever even felt.

So as I lay in the rain one summer's eve, in a field just north of my birth home, I was beyond surprised to see something. Something that reminded me of home.

Home, eh?

I havent had a home in centuries, so why do I feel this? Honestly, I never was a child who thought of the obvious. But when your dead, everything feels the same, tastes the same, like ashes in your throat. Soon enough everyone stops, become numb to it, a sensation I am waiting to feel. Yet still with the inner knowledge that at the end of the day none of that mattered, I lay on the dew covered grass, faintly smelt the roses rising off of the liquid.

It smelt how I remembered life to be.

It almost like a heartbeat, this feeling now coursing inside of me, tainting mg veins. Like God had given me back my beat residing in my heart. I last remembered this when I was held in the arms of a man I onced loved. Yet as this heartbeat of my sped faster and faster, it all seemed to slip away, the memories, the emotions, every thing.

Closing my tired eyes, all I remembered feeling, was the rain drops falling on to my skin.

All I remembered was the rain.

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