Braving through the rain

It was cold. The rain has been pouring endlessly from the dark sky, with no sign of abating. My umbrella is useless, I'm drenched from head to toe, my arms crossed over my shoulders in a frail attempt to give some warmth.
I have given up on running for shelter, this lonely road offers none, miles on end. I have given up thinking about my predicament, as the cold now is my major concern. It's always a wonder for me that people spend so much time wallowing in self-pity without actually devising ways to escape. It is not like I myself is saved from this trap, but I make it a point to not spend too much on it. Plus, if you fear for your survival, it leaves not much time for fruitless self pity right? So I plodded on, hoping that somewhere, something gives.
I held up my head for awhile, because walking with the head bent down is a sore to the neck. Occasionally I look up, look ahead to see where I'm going and to search for signs that the rain would stop. But the rain droplets assaults my eyes, flooding my vision. So I bent my head back down again, tiredly focusing on my battered shoes.
But wait. Was that a flicker from the distance? Is it a house, a car or anything that can offer solace? I suspect that it is just my mind orchestrating its devious tricks again: playing mercilessly on my hopes. So I look up, using my hand to cover my eyes in an attempt to see better.
My heart skipped a beat. Oh God, it is really a shelter! Finally, a place to go. It was as if injected with renewed energy, I made way toward the shelter. There were no concerns within my mind as I just really wanted to get off from the rain.
Reaching the wooden shelter, a grateful prayer crossed my heart. Finally, a break from the cold rainy night! I was standing on the ledge, with just a small awning of the roof over my head, rubbing my hands together to summon some warmth into my frozen limbs. Looking around, my eyes met with an uninviting pair of eyes staring at me accusingly that I have no right to be there. I was taken aback, muttering softly, "So sorry, I'll go once the rain let up a bit". There was a grunt signalling that I am not welcomed, but can stay until the weather is slightly better.
I was standing around there restlessly. It felt awful. How I wish I could have wings, so that I can run away without ever being an inconvenience to anybody. But to brave the rain again, my strength is drained. Just a little while, just a little while. I was trying to shrink the space that I take up, although the pavement of the shelter is wide and spacious. I feel the eyes sizing me up disapprovingly, and with each glance from those eyes, my heart sunk deeper.
I can't justify my presence there, that person doesn't know my journey and doesn't look eager to understand. Understanding is subjective and always a victim to judgment and prejudice. Knowing this, my attempts to explain would fall on deaf ears and hateful hearts. So I concede to their perception, praying constantly that I could run away and escape the situation.
I promise myself, as soon as I have the strength, I will continue my journey as lonely and dark it may be. These unwelcoming stops are just a natural part of the path. Convincing myself that the end is near, that there is a hope for salvation. These thoughts are what distracted me from my current circumstance.
Sure enough, the rain let up a bit. I mumbled my appreciation before darting for the road again, holding on to my useless umbrella. Not long after, the rain started again, with increased intensity from before. I was wondering where does all this water come from? It's a wonder why it hasn't flooded yet. The cold crept to my bones, cementing my resignation to whatever comes my way. The experience at the shelter leaving a bitter aftertaste. A cloud of despair shrouded my heart, but I plodded on. Maybe, just maybe the sun will finally show up and save me from this fate.