Crimson Rain

The day's just beginning and tapping I hear against the window shear. Looking out as if I were a prisoner, a grim, gray sky encroaches and envelops the manor of which I reside. Fascination consumes my very mind as I watch the crystal clear rain turn to a deathly crimson. I blinked my eyes to try and shed this image, but this horrid crimson I could not shake. I leave my chamber halfway to insanity trying to salvage the rest. A cup of tea to do the trick even if it's just a sip. These crimson drops still embedded in my head, robs me of my rationed thoughts drip by drip. Heading for the door I must, for just a faint hope of clearing things up. My mind now in shambles, I look up still seeing the crimson falling from above. I slammed the door shut huffing, puffing, panting in fear knowing that I might be done in by the rain of crimson wanting to get in. I headed for the closet and summoned up my umbrella. I headed for that formidable threshold ready and determined. Do I go out, or should I stay in?