Another dead end

RACHEL'S POV 

I'm woken up from sleep by the rhythmic tapping of rain against the glass of my window—the earthy scent and beautiful aura of rain that once brought me joy as a kid as it meant I could stay out of school—yet this time around, I was nonchalant towards the rain. It reminded me of my problems and the overwhelming sadness that threatened to consume me. 

A sigh parted my lips as I turned around, now facing the wall, so I wouldn't have to look out at the rain. Normally, I would be in a haste to jump out of bed; however, lately, getting out of bed felt like I was lifting a heavy, five hundred-pound dumbbell. I felt weak, both physically and mentally. Each step I took was a constant reminder of my failures.