CHAPTER 2

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The sun shined today, dimmer than how I usually catch it. I woke up to the sound of a strong howling wind which wings are bashing against our creaky glass windows. I took a deep breath.

Mornings are overwhelming. I am again given a chance to redeem myself from the failures of yesterday. But how do I figure out what to put right? "Maybe get the vacuum finally fixed?" I reckoned.

It's a Saturday, which is special for me. Rue and I free ourselves during this day. Saturdays mean an empty schedule. One time, Rue called up for a whole production of a local theater in our town. She made them set up at our not-so-big veranda where she and I could watch them later that Saturday night. I remember worrying that our house could have been lost in a fire. But I am glad it did not, although some strands of my hair did.

The last day of the week is the week where I am put first. It is a favorite day like a birthday. Rue is in all forces to make me happy. But not that I do not expend the same amount of effort and energy that Rue does. I, also, once, took it beyond what she, and even I, expected.

Once, I rented out a whole zoo where we filmed our first two-man-production ever. We were the directors, and we were the actors. Rue always claimed that she was the sole writer. I remember editing the whole movie for two months, which I was not able to finish because we lost the copy of a few shots. That did not seem to bother Rue. "At least we have it in our memories." She spoke in a manner that she does whenever she tells me I looked unflattering in my outfit for the day. I was swayed.

Saturdays mean we could be whoever we wanted to be. So I stood up from the bed, headed over the mirror, and fixed myself. Yes, my hair. And, ran down too excited to see and kiss Rue.

"Blargh.." I heard a sound similar to my drunk self whenever I am reaching for the bowl myself.

"Babe?" I exclaimed.

I ran down, and found my poor Rue curved at the kitchen sink. She was learning towards the counter sickly and was in a round of sting.

"I.. can't.." Rue softly uttered. She was engaged with her distress. Her face was dry, and the color of her skin was pale. Covering her face are tiny drops of sweat. I grabbed a towel before I held her and helped her with her ache.

That one unfortunate Saturday became an enormous day for torment: torment for Rue because of the pain she endures, and more torment for me I could not take seeing Rue suffer. How I wish I can get the pain she seizes to lose.

The evening came and Rue could not go through it any longer. She asked me to take her to the doctor. "Okay. I'll get your jacket. Wait here." I gasped.

We drove in the middle of the night. I was cold, but I did not mind. I had to help ease whatever Rue was feeling at that moment. You ever notice how some of our snatched moments linger in the memory of the suspect. And, who is the suspect? The pain we carry. But, how can pain keep a memory? This day could have been special and worth it. But, some days are just really hard. Some days would just hurt you as if it was a knife stabbed in your heart.

When we finally arrived at the hospital, a nurse brought Rue to the emergency room and after a while, a doctor spoke to us. He walked towards us and asked us to follow him in his office.

At the outset, the doctor's room did not feel like one. Miniature horses made of paper welcomed us upon our first four steps in the short hallway leading to the actual consultation room. Then there was a green table with apparent notches. It also looked like a big cube covered in nicks or something. We sat across that table where two chairs were located.

"Are you feeling better now, dear?" The doctor asked Rue.

"I'm not sure. I feel so worn out and my head still feels heavy and swollen."

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