Starting Life From Another Choice Than Zero

The Painful Feeling Called Love

Through the thick blood-red linen drapes, pierced the last hour of sunlight. The curtains glowed, as if set ablaze, permitting only the smallest fracture of light to illuminate a scene beyond the crimson veil.

The sound of clattering metal, as it fell and clanged onto the polished wooden floorboards. A loud thump followed like an echo, as well as the horrible sound of shattering china.

Emerging underneath even the smallest pieces of slivered glass, the dark texture of tea dribbled ever so gradually around, seeping into the carpet beside it. Smudging it's lavish design with a distasteful shade of dark brown.

Thankfully, the hallway that held this unprecedented blunder was barren of the other sole occupants living in the once, noisy mansion.

Realizing this, Rem, exhaled a great sigh of relief.

The gleaming metal platter in her hands she gently placed beside her, adjacent to a small teaspoon jumbled by the fall. With care, and with quicken pace, she began picking the pieces of white. Ridding the evidence of a slight mishap with unnecessary haste.

To the platter they went, chinking and clunking with every new piece placed atop another.

The repeated steps she took began to show their challenge, under the weary condition she was in the effect of. Her hand slowed in the process, and felt as if an intense weight immobilized her arm outstretched.

Undaunted, she took a breath, large, slow.

Her mind once cluttered, was stamped of everything, a total blank. Nothing became the only thing she was aware of, darkness enveloping her in that one moment of attempted easement, her head swayed and she felt the weight of it, eyes snapping back again into reality, in time to stop herself from collapsing forward. Mind, now aching and pounding more than ever before.

A finger stung, then something trickled downwards.

Another sigh she exhaled, with gloom as opposed to relief, examining the consequence of a risk carelessly took, the bead of scarlet on her fingertip growing in size.

It was a ridiculous thing to have happened, she thought to herself. Only a moron would fail and prick themselves at the simple task of picking up shattered glass. Only then, with a pang of unbearable pain that had nothing to do with cuts, did she visualize, a certain someone else making the same mistake she had, perhaps even, multiple times over.

"Rem?"

With her name called, her body stiffen harder than stone.

"I thought I heard the sound of a cup breaking..."

Still on bent knees, Rem turned slightly back, her bloodied finger hidden in a crumpled fist, to see as she had already known, the owner of the soft, inquiring voice.

Ram stood rooted, the scene she had come to witness still in the process of solving only for a moment, until quick realization dawned on her face, which then turned to worry.

"It was you..."

Rem did not answer, the only sign of having heard, was turning back to resume collecting the remaining fragments with the uninjured hand.

"Is she still taking from you?" asked Ram, inching closer to her sister. "I had thought it was unneeded now. Why are you still letting her?"

It was hard to maintain focus. Fatigue nearing the verge of consuming what little energy she still kept reserve. Her words too, which were only aggravating to hear, only served to worsen her already battered spirits.

"I'm fine. She had already refrain from taking anymore. This is nothing to fret over. I've merely been lost in thought."

Simply mustering the words to be said in an unconcern manner, stole already what little she had left of herself, but by some luck, managed it successfully. It was with dread that she realize only more questions would come following her assurance, yet strangely, only silence came to greet her.