Short story

The rain landed hard upon the thatched roof, before seeping and dripping upon my bewildered face. It left sound upon sound, becoming music; sounding if anything, a lot like the beat of the African drums.
                I stood with my heavy head slummed against the partially open door and I could do nothing but look outside in daze. The once clear sky was now grey like ash, making me question whether it was actually day at all. It was hard to believe that the rain that tore through the sky like titans; forcing the leaves to hang limp like overcooked vegetables, was in fact the same one that left the gentleness of ripples upon the mucky puddle ground.
               “Why are you standing by the door?” a voice from behind barked at me, making me stand stiffer than a plank of dirty wood.
               The sound of heavy torrential down pour became softer and softer, before dwindling entirely and was instantly replaced with my heavy heart beat. Turning around slowly, moving the same way as a person suffering from a severe neck injuring, I wanted to put a face to this abrupt voice. The figure  was nothing other than a mere blur through the heavy raindrops and I could only stare like a blind fool, as I questioned and wondered who could it possibly be.

“Please can I stay round Achiros?” I repeated myself so many times that I began to sound like a broken record. After much nagging, it had finally paid off, as my mother has finally agreed. Now here I was standing in Achiros house. All the days it could have rained,  it had decided to do so now. Yes now! I had secretly planned this day perfectly in my head and it was always the same. The sun would beam upon my brown skin, waves of laughter would fill the fresh air, I would deliberately allow my soft afro to sway, in-sync with the African grass. Bending down, slowly grasping the warm rock in my bare palms, I would throw it with all my might, before attempting to play a game of catch with a hand full of friends. But instead my lovely day-dream was exasperated. There was no sun to be seen, the bitter chill ran through me, making my brown complexion to look grey like death, everyone was locked up in their hut and my wet afro swayed recklessly before slapping across my face. And the only rock was from the rock-like rain that seemed to assault my bare skin; forcing my hands to quiver. But in spite of all this, I honestly had to chuckle at my lack of luck.

 “Why are you standing by the door?” the figure asked me repeatedly, forcing me to snap out of my daydream and I blinked so hard that I could have sworn I burst a vessel and just like that, the rain-drops that rested upon my lashes fell and trickled down my cheeks the same way a tear does. There as clear as day I saw the figure now standing directly in front of me; it was Achiro.

“I was just thinking” and she looked at me confused as one being constantly slapped by cold rain.
“Anyways, come inside; you are soaked from the rain” she replied and I realised that I was in fact the confused one.