A Vihokratana's tragedy

13. Pluem

He felt as though his brain had been hit with an electric shock, and in an instant, he lost all his senses. Pluem collapsed onto the floor of his room, which had been covered with pillows he had arranged earlier to tidy up his bed for sleep. Fortunately—or unfortunately—thanks to those pillows, no one in the house noticed his fall. His body began to convulse, and tears streamed down his face, silent and unseen.

After what felt like an eternity, though only a couple of minutes, the episode ended. Still, Pluem remained on the floor, curled up like a baby in his mother’s womb, but the warmth was absent. Instead, the cold floor, icy as it was, seemed to freeze his entire body. Winter and cold floors never went well together, and even the pillows offered no comfort.

This was the second time it had happened, and Pluem knew better than to ignore these symptoms. Seizures weren’t something to be taken lightly, especially with no clear explanation for why they were happening. But what could he do? He didn’t feel like going to the hospital alone, not after everything he had been through there. He didn’t want to burden his family with his problems, especially since he had always felt like a burden to them since he was a child. From the moment he began to understand things, he had tried his best to ease their worries.

His body felt stiff, his muscles rigid and painful. It was almost impossible for him to move. His heart raced, desperate to escape his chest. One shaky hand gripped the other, but it did nothing to help. He was terrified, yet there was no one to comfort him. He was completely alone in his cold room. The urge to scream—to release the pain violently—was overwhelming. But even moving a single finger felt like an impossible task.

Pluem had always believed he was a burden to others. That was one of the reasons he had never reciprocated Chimon’s feelings at first. But he couldn’t keep rejecting Chimon, and eventually, he surprised Chi by initiating his love confession first. Now, they were each other’s everything. He was happy, truly, but there was always that fear—what if misfortune followed him? What if Chimon ended up hurt because of him, just like his Papa had?

Pluem had a weak liver since birth, but it wasn't that bad. It was an okay liver to live with, just that Pluem had a lot of things to avoid and a lot of medicines to take. Despite the constant caution, he managed. But one day, when he was seven, his abdominal pain became so unbearable, accompanied by vomiting, that even Pluem—who always smiled through injections—couldn't hold back his tears. He cried out, wanting nothing more than for the pain to go away. For the first time, he wanted nothing more than the agony to stop, and, miraculously, it felt a little more bearable when his Papa embraced him in a warm hug.

He didn’t know when Papa had entered the room or when he had realized Pluem was crying, but the hug helped him feel a little safer. Papa’s soft, reassuring whispers of "You're okay, Papa's got your back" were doing wonders, calming Pluem’s frantic heart. It was the kind of comfort only a parent could give. Another minute, and they were in the doctor's office. After the check-up, Pluem, along with his two four-year-old twin brothers, sat in the waiting area. They were waiting for their Papa, who was talking to the doctor, probably discussing his own health.

His twin brothers were happily playing, making the best of their time at the hospital, while Pluem sat completely drained. He felt utterly exhausted—every inch of his body begged for sleep. But there was one thing he had to do: keep an eye on his brothers. Right now, their parents weren’t around, and Pluem was the only one who could look after them. He knew that. He was their only bodyguard in this moment.

Finally, Papa entered the room with a soft smile curved on his face. He walked over and kissed Pluem on the cheek. Pluem could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t dare ask. He just held on to that feeling of warmth for a moment longer.