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The sun hung high in the heavens, a blazing orb of relentless fury. Its searing rays scorched the earth below, but the lone figure in the orange robe pressed on. Though the garment shielded her from the sun’s merciless glare, it offered no solace from the oppressive heat that clung to her like a second skin. Before her loomed the mighty Stroopwafel Mountain, a confectionary colossus of golden, syrup laden splendor. At her side, a diminutive white rabbit bounded with an air of purpose. The creature bore was the fabled hero Nijntje of Konijn, though she was simply called "Miffy" by her steadfast companion.
“Oh, noble Mymy,” the small feline at her side mewed, her paws struggling to find purchase on the sticky, syrup-slicked slopes. “Do you think we shall reach the summit in time?”
“Fear not, my furry friend,” the ginger-haired maiden proclaimed, her voice ringing with fiery determination. “This treacherous peak may tempt us with its sugary wiles, but we shall conquer it! And with its conquest, we shall save the prince!” Minutes turned to moments, moments to heartbeats, as the two ascended the saccharine heights. The Girl paused now and again to nibble at the summit, for who could resist the siren song of Stroopwafels? But at last, they reached the pinnacle. There, bound and helpless, sat Koek, the sovereign of the Netherlands. Yet, their triumph was short lived, for standing guard was a serpentine horror, her hair a writhing mass of living purple snakes, covering one of her eyes. The monster hissed, her voice a venomous symphony. “You sssshall not passsss!”
The rabbit recoiled, her whiskers quivering. “M-Mymy! She’s terrifying!” squeaked the feline, retreating behind the fiery-haired girl. The serpent-woman sneered, her fangs glinting like daggers. “If you wisssh to claim the prince, you musssst—”
BANG!
The words were silenced by the crack of a gunshot. Mymy, unflinching and resolute, lowered her weapon. The monster collapsed in a heap, her serpentine hair falling still. Calmly, Mymy retrieved the bullet from the lifeless guardian, tucking it away for future use. She strode forward, her every step radiating authority, and untied the prince. His parrot-like features flushed with gratitude. “Oh, Mymy,” he gasped, his voice rich with admiration. “You’ve saved me! Without you, I would surely have been dead by now. Tell me, my savior, would you honor me by sharing the throne and becoming the Queen of the Netherlands?”
Mymy’s cheeks flushed as brightly as her hair. This was her moment, her destiny even. “Of course,” she declared, her voice unwavering. The world erupted into celebration. From nowhere, a jubilant crowd appeared, their cheers a crescendo that echoed across the sugary peaks. Her loyal furry companions placed a crown of caramel and tulips upon her head, and Captain Koek handed her a bouquet of the finest blooms. Mymy, the conqueror of Stroopwafel Mountain, savior of the prince, and future queen, had risen to glory. The world was hers. The crowd surged forward, lifting her high, their chants of her name ringing out like a hymn to the heavens.
"Mymy, Mymy, Mymy, Mymy, Mymy, Mymy, Mymy, Mymy, Mymy, Mymy, Mymy, Mymy, Mymy!"
"MYMY SCHOPPENBOER!"
The Girl shook, realizing this wasn’t the crowd she wanted to face. Looking up from her desk, she directly locked eyes with her Economics teacher.
"Hi, sleep well?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcastic friendliness. Before Mymy could respond, he cut her off, wearing that infuriating expression in his face, the kind of expression that silently screamed, "You screwed up big time". "Well, I hope you’ll have more energy for the test tomorrow on the topic we just discussed. Too bad you probably missed half of it," he said, his words stinging. "That goes for all of you. Be prepared for a pop quiz on Supply and Demand tomorrow."
Groans echoed through the classroom, as the Teacher spat out. Half the students shot annoyed glances at Mymy, blaming her for the sudden quiz, while the rest remained blissfully unaware, lost in their own worlds. Mymy seethed. She hated this teacher, wishing he’d meet a fate as grim as Johan de Witt, but there wasn’t much she could do. She has been already sent to the Principals Office four times this month for "bad" behaviour, although she still didn't see the problem with burning the Belgium Flag during Geography class.
The Ginger turned to her seatmate, expecting the usual burst of yellow joy. Instead, she was met with her friend Cato, whose vacant expression said it all. The lights were on, but no one was home, no wonder this happened. Mymy grunted. Of course, this day couldn’t get any worse. First, there were no Stroopwafels for breakfast, then her bike broke down, and now this. She sighed heavily, cursing herself for choosing Economics over Biology. If she were in Coco’s class, at least she would’ve taken notes and helped her prepare for the quiz or even better, woke her up. Deciding she couldn’t dwell on it anymore, she searched for a distraction to kill the last ten minutes of class. Her eyes drifted to the window, where rain pounded relentlessly against the glass.
Mymy hated the rain. It always came unannounced, turning perfect days into soaked messes. Being wet and cold wasn’t fun and it ruined everything she looked forward to. No korfball training outside and Pirate Club was reduced to playing Risk Junior in the cramped clubroom. There was something else about the rain that gnawed at her, something she couldn’t quite name, but it was enough to sour her mood further.
She glanced to her right at Kiki, enemy turned friend. Kiki was hunched over her notebook, scribbling away at something that almost certainly wasn’t Economics-related. Asking her for notes would be pointless. As Mymy tried to concoct a believable excuse for skipping tomorrow’s class, she failed to notice the bell ringing. She also failed to notice Bert, her best friend, standing in front of her until he awkwardly cleared his throat.
“Ehm… here are my notes from today. You can use these to study… anyways, have a nice day Mymy. See you later,” he stammered, thrusting a notebook toward her before disappearing in a flash.
Mymy blinked, caught off guard. She liked the boy, altough sometimes he was a handful. The friendly teasing he did was sometimes too much and often left her rolling her eyes. He meant well, but his jokes and clumsy attempts at kindness often backfired. But on Days like these, she really treasured it. Remembering to pack an extra Stroopwafel Juicebox for him tomorrow.
As she stood up, she realized the classroom was empty except for Kiki, who was leaning against the doorframe, waiting for her. “The skies be spillin’ their guts,” Kiki said with a grin. “Looks like we won’t be settin’ foot on the ship today. Ya still wanna do somethin’? I’d be up for some Risk.”
Mymy smirked. She was currently on a 23-game winning streak. Kiki had come close to beating her a few times, but the Ginger would always find a way to win... usually by blatantly cheating. “Of course! If you’re ready to lose,” she quipped, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading toward the clubroom with Kiki at her side.
Although Kiki advertised the Pirate Club intensively throughout the school, no one besides Mymy ever attended. In fact, if the ginger haired girl thought about it, she never officially joined the club. It all started during a rare productive history lesson when the class discussed the Dutch East India Company. Kiki brought up how the VOC often struggled with pirates and how superior they were. Mymy hearing that, of course didn't let this go without a fight. A heated argument erupted between the two, carrying on long after class ended and even after everyone else had gone home. Somehow, they ended up in the clubroom, still bickering about pirates versus the VOC. It wasn’t until Coco came to drag Mymy home that the debate finally ended.
Yet somehow, here they were now, playing Risk, chatting, and laughing together. They still had their disagreements, but nothing a quick duel with their (plastic) swords couldn’t settle. “Yes! I’ve placed all me hideouts. I’ve finally claimed victory!” Kiki exclaimed triumphantly, much to Mymy’s dismay.
“What!? Ho— didn’t I just remov— ugh, screw it…” Mymy groaned, tossing her dice down in defeat. “Next time, don’t stare out the window for half the game,” Kiki teased, grinning as she began packing up the pieces. Mymy glared at the window for a moment, frustration bubbling inside her. Today the Weather distracted her somehow, and she hated it. She didn’t know why, but it gnawed at her in a way she couldn’t shake. “Everything alright there? You look like you’re about to walk the plank…” Kiki asked, her teasing tone replaced with genuine concern. “I’m fine… just tired is all,” Mymy muttered, forcing a small smile.
She decided to leave today’s session early, unsure what to do with herself until her bus arrived. Checking the clock in the hallway, she realized she still had 15 minutes to kill. Maya didn’t participate in any after-school activities, so bothering her wasn’t an option sadly. That left only one choice. With a resigned sigh, Mymy headed toward the music room.
Mymy never understood this whole "Folk Eurobeat" thing Coco and her band were making. To her, it didn’t sound like music at all. The same went for the Belgian, that incel loser Music of "Weener" or whatever their name was. Every road trip, she was subjected to it, with Maya blasting it so loud on her headphones that it leaked through for everyone to hear. Mymy, however, appreciated real art. Lenny Kuhr and André Hazes, an interest she shared with her Grandmother.
As she finally reached the music room, she noticed the door was wide open, but no music was playing. Peeking inside, she saw Coco and another girl. Mymy recognized her but couldn’t remember her name. The girl sat quietly in a corner, engrossed in a book. She was even quieter than Maya and seemed to only talk to Coco or her small group of friends, if she remembered correctly.
“Hi, Mymy! How’s it going? Done with your club activities already?” Coco asked, wiping dust off a shelf. The music room always seemed to collect an unreasonable amount of dust.
“Hi. It’s alright. Where’s everyone else?” Mymy replied, looking around the room, making uncomfortable eye contact with the mystery Girl in the process.
“Oh, Zoey and I stayed behind to clean up,” Coco explained. Ah, so that’s her name, Mymy thought.
“I’ll be done in about five minutes. Could you grab my stuff from my locker in the meantime? It’s just my bag, nothing special,” Coco added with a smile. Grateful for an excuse to escape Zoey’s intense stare, Mymy agreed and headed toward the lockers. After some struggle, she managed to open Coco’s locker. Inside, taped to the door, was a picture that caught her attention.
It was an old photo of Mymy, Maya, and Coco from years ago. Back then, Mymy still had her natural hair color. They were sprawled out in their living room, surrounded by Legos, stuffed animals and snacks, laughing and having the time of their lives. Even the Autist was smiling, a genuine expression of joy that Mymy hadn’t seen in years.
“What are you doing?”
Startled, Mymy yelped and spun around to see Coco standing behind her, smiling. “Oh, Coco! I was just... Forget about it. Let’s go home,” Mymy muttered, quickly closing the locker and heading toward the door.
The bus ride home was an uneventful and quite affair. The bus was nearly empty, and Kiki had been picked up by her parents, leaving Mymy sitting next to Coco. The blonde was fully engrossed in her math homework, using the 10 minute ride to knock out a few easy problems. Mymy, on the other hand didn’t bother, she saved that task for later. Homework was a post-dinner task for her, she always worked better on a full stomach. Instead, she stared out of the window, lost in thought, with a strange feeling in her stomach. It wasn’t hunger, but she couldn’t quite place what it was.
Dinner that evening was Kibbeling with coleslaw, a satisfying meal. However, Mymy had noticed a recent pattern, most of their meals were frozen and pre-made, a shift from the home-cooked dishes they used to enjoy. She didn’t mind, but it was odd.
The Belge didn’t join them at the table, which wasn’t a surprise. Maya’s appearances at dinner had been sporadic for the past 3 years, and tonight Mymy was glad for the absence. The extra plate their mom had prepared sat untouched, a quiet reminder of her sister’s unpredictable habits. Just as Mymy was about to dig into her meal, her fork hovering over a piece of fish, the plate vanished before her eyes. She turned in frustration, only to be met with that cheerful, trademarked smile.
“Sorry, Mymy, but this is for Maya,” the blonde said, walking away with the plate, fork, and knife in hand. Mymy let out an irritated grunt, dumped her own dirty dishes in the sink, and trudged upstairs to her room. Dragging her bag behind her, she opened the door and tossed it onto the floor beside her bed. Without a second thought, she grabbed her beloved Captain Keok body pillow and collapsed onto the mattress.
“Today sucked,” she muttered, hugging the pillow tightly.
What she needed now was a good night’s sleep and maybe a pleasant end to her dream to make up for the lousy day. She ignored her homework, didn’t bother changing into pajamas, and closed her eyes, hoping for rest.
But rest didn’t come easily. A loud thunderstorm outside shattered the quiet, the thunder roaring like cannon fire. “Great,” she groaned, pulling the pillow over her head.
This was yet another reason to hate the rain. It was as noisy as, if not noisier than Autist's bed at night. No wonder the British were always off colonizing other countries. These relentless storms could drive anyone crazy, crazy enough to think that beans on toast was a gourmet dish.
With a short grunt, Mymy got up and made her way to the closet. Pulling open the door, she rummaged through her clothes in search of her pajamas. Instead, something else caught her eye, something long forgotten, buried under years of neglect and old clothes.
Her old Miffy plush.
She picked it up, brushing off the layer of dust that had gathered on it. The bunny’s once bright blue shirt had faded over time, its vibrant colour now dulled and washed out. Mymy stared at it, memories slowly surfacing like fragments of an old film.
It was her sixth birthday, back when she lived in Japan. Her parents hadn’t had much back then, so gifts where a rarity, didn’t matter what occasion. But somehow, her sister had saved up enough money to buy her the plush. She remembered the pure joy she’d felt holding it for the first time and the quiet disappointment etched on her parents faces.
They scolded her sister that day, accusing her of feeding into Mymy’s “delusion” and “encouraging this obsession.” Her sister had been punished for her kindness, but that hadn’t stopped her. Mymy could still recall how often her mother had thrown the plush into the trash, only for it to mysteriously reappear on her futon the next morning, freshly cleaned.
Holding the plush now, Mymy felt a strange mixture of emotions, a bittersweet mix of gratitude and melancholy. She was grateful to be out of that hell hole, free to live her life exactly like she wanted to. Yet, there was an ache in her chest, a yearning to remember more, to piece together the fragments of her past. But the harder she tried, the more the memories slipped away, like sand through her fingers. May it be because it was such a long time ago or her brain wasn't letting her.
She stood by the window, her forehead pressed against the cold glass, gazing out at the grey dreary scenery. The weather seemed to perfectly echo the day she had last seen her sister. Her thoughts drifted, wondering where her sister might be now. Was she happy? Had she finished school? What was she doing with her life? Was she still out there somewhere, thinking about her too?
The questions lingered, heavy and unanswered, but Mymy didn’t want to dwell on it any longer. The glass had fogged up, droplets running down its surface. She wiped it clean with her sleeve, brushing her own damp cheeks in the process.
With a deep breath, she turned back to the closet. Carefully, she placed the plush toy back in its spot, as though returning it back to its slumber and closed the door.
Mymy hated the Rain.