Ruin (13 page)

“No … you’re the one I’ve been playing with all this time.”

I frown, confused, but then he logs me out and logs in himself, showing me the characters he plays.

As well as the name that I immediately recognize as the buddy I’ve been playing with for a long time. The guy who was always kind to me in the game, even though I rarely knew how to express myself properly without sounding like a bitch. He never cared. He always showed up and played along with me, showing me where to go and being patient with me when I didn’t understand.

It’s him.

I should’ve known this; I should’ve realized when we were talking in real life.

It’s almost exactly like in the game. Always with complete and utter respect for each other’s differences.

I smile, realizing that I’ve found a lost part of myself once again.

That guy who didn’t judge me, but understood me, and liked to escape into a fantasy world, just like me.

It’s always been him.

Maybell

I never thought Alex would be the same guy I’ve been playing games with all this time.

Then again, it couldn’t be any more of a dream come true.

Finally, I’ve found someone who loves the same game I do, someone I can talk to on a regular basis, and someone who doesn’t freak out over my quirks. He actually likes to be around me, and now that I know he plays games too, I just know we’re going to have heaps of fun together.

Too bad visiting hours are over.

The nurses said he couldn’t stay any longer, so unfortunately, we had to say goodbye. But at least he can game from home while I’m here, and then we can still talk.

However, it’s time to go to bed now, according to the nurses. Every night, they turn off the lights in the hallway, a signal for the patients to stop playing games or reading books so everyone can go to sleep. It’s much earlier than when I’d normally go to sleep at home, but I don’t want to bother anyone, either, so I turn off my laptop and stick it in the cabinet. Then I turn around and pull up the blanket, stuffing my face into the pillow.

It doesn’t take long for me to fade away into dreamland … the place where I still walk.

Where I still run.

Where I can still dance.

I feel my muscles tighten as my legs push me off the ground, and I run as fast as I can, twirling along the way. My family passes me by, and they ask me why I’m not in my wheelchair. I tell them I don’t know why, but it’s a miracle.

I can walk again.

Something so simple can give me so much joy.

I smile brightly as I pass the shops in town and show everyone my renewed vigor. Only now do I realize my freedom means the world to me.

Too bad dreams are only dreams.

When I wake up, I return to the nightmare of my reality.

Being stuck in a bed with no way to get out except with two sticks, and even then barely.

Morning has arrived. My bed is sweaty, and my limbs feel droopy, like they’re melting away.

Every inch of me wants to scream.

The nurse comes in to take my order for the day, so I ask for oatmeal and an apple, but I already know I’m not hungry. I get out of bed and pick up the crutches so I can go pee. Something that should normally take only five minutes now takes twenty minutes. It’s a chore to get to the toilet and back. But at least I have the hang of these crutches now.

However, my body is already tired by the time I’m back in my room.

I should lie down, but I don’t want to. I hate feeling like a crippled person.

Fuck the bed.

Fuck everything.

With a giant frown, I sit in my wheelchair and sulk.

I wheel myself to the window and stare outside at the people walking across the street. I envy them and their ability to do whatever they want. I used to have that freedom … and I took it for granted.

“Here you go,” the nurse says, placing the tray with food near me on the small table. “You sure you want to eat here and not in bed?”

The way she leans over to talk to me forces me to remember that I’m in a wheelchair, witnessing the world from below. Treated like a child who doesn’t know what she wants.

“I’m fine,” I reply, a bit snarly.

She nods and smiles gently before leaving.

I don’t mean to be angry toward her. She doesn’t deserve it, but it’s too late to say sorry because she’s already gone. Not that it would change my mood. I don’t think anything can.

Not even his voice.

“Hey May,” Alex says. I can hear his footsteps, but I don’t turn around.

He stands behind me and places his hand on my shoulder. “You all right? You haven’t eaten your breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry,” I mutter, my throat feeling clamped.

He leans over me, making a weird, scrunched-up face to try to make me laugh, but it’s not working.

“Oh, c’mon? It’s not even a little bit funny?” he says.

“Sorry,” I say as I turn away. “It’s just not my day.”

“To hell, it isn’t.” He grabs a chair and sits down next to me with his elbows on his knees, staring intently at me. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” I wince. That sounds ugly. “I don’t have a
problem
. Why are you sitting so close?”

“Is it bothering you?” he muses.

“Maybe …”

He scoots even closer.

“How about now?”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “Look, I’m not—”

“Tell me what you’re thinking, May,” he interjects, his voice suddenly stern and overbearing.

At first, I want to yell. Tell him to leave me alone. But really … what I really want to do is cry.

“I …” I stammer. I can’t even say a word without the tears forming in my eyes, so I stop trying.

But then he does the most peculiar thing. He leans in and hugs me.

His arms around me.

His warm body against mine.

The smell of his musky aftershave.

It’s all too much.

I break apart in his arms.

***

Alexander

Tears run down her cheeks as her hands roam my back, growing tighter as they move. She just needs to hold me and cry for a moment. I know she doesn’t want me or anyone else to see it, but sometimes, you just have to show your weakness in order to become strong again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Don’t.” I caress her back. “Don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I’m putting this all on you,” she says, hiccupping.

“I can handle it,” I say, my voice soft.

So much hopelessness springs from her. I wish I could take it all away. The hurt. The pain. The emotions. All of it.

“It’s okay to cry, right?” She sniffs.

“Cry as much as you need to. I’m here.”

She rests her head on my shoulder and breathes in and out.

Humans. We’re so strange.

We hate feeling vulnerable and showing our weakness, but we can’t always stay strong. It’s impossible, despite what we tell ourselves. Sometimes, we just have to rely on others to carry us through our hurt. Sometimes, we
need
to feel the pain in order to move on.

“This isn’t fair,” she murmurs. “For you.”

“I don’t care. I can take it.”

She turns her head back so she can look at me for a second. “Why do you keep doing this?”

“What?”

“This …” She looks down at my hand and grabs it, entwining her fingers through mine. “How?”

I smile at the sight of her face. She’s beautiful, even when she cries. “Because I want to. It makes me happy to help.”

Her lips curl a tiny bit, almost forming a smile.

“That … and I just love your smile,” I add.

Now, she finally smiles, and I pull her in for another hug. She wipes away the tears from her eyes, still holding onto me. “Thank you.”

After a while, when she’s ready to let go, we both look outside.

“The leaves are already falling,” I say.

She likes to stare at the world, probably because she longs for it.

“Mmmhmm …” Her hair frames her face, the colors of the beautiful autumn.

But I won’t let her wither away like the leaves.

“C’mon.” I get up and grab her wheelchair, spinning her around.

“Where are we going?” she asks as I walk her out of her room.

“You’ll see …” I don’t want to spoil the surprise.

“Stop being so cryptic,” she says as I roll her through the hallways.

“It’s a secret.”

“Why? You’re not going to race me around again, are you?”

“No,” I say, “but this is just as fun.”

“Oh, God … I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

I laugh a little at her lack of faith in my ability to keep her alive.

“At least, you’ll die happy then,” I quip, adding to her fear.

“If I’m going to die, I’m going to kill you too, Alex!”

Now, I can’t stop laughing, but I won’t stop pushing her outside either.

“Goddamn you, I’m still wearing my pajamas,” she says.

“Who cares?”

“I do!”

“Take them off then,” I joke, but she looks at me as if I’m dead serious.

“You want me to be naked outside? For everyone to see?”

“Well … if you insist.” I wriggle my brows.

She growls out loud. “God, I’m so going to rip you a new one when I’m out of this chair.”

“I was only joking,” I say.

“Sure, you were.”

“Yup.” Only I know the truth. Good thing too because I don’t think it’s appropriate for her to know how many times I’ve already fantasized about seeing her naked.

I race her out into the park next to the hospital and slow down my pace. We’re the only ones here because it’s so early in the morning, and it’s perfect. The silence is wonderful, and it seems to have calmed her down too.

Her eyes skim the area, lingering on every tree in our vicinity. I wonder what she sees. If she sees what I see.

Birds singing their songs atop the trees.

The wind whistling through the branches.

All the colors of the rainbow dancing across the ground.

Colorful leaves twirling in the wind.

A lonely bench sits in the middle of the grass. That’s where I go.

I place her wheelchair in front of it, and then stand in front of her and hold out my hand. For a second, she just gazes at me, perplexed, but then she reaches out and grabs it. I lift her up from the chair and guide her to the bench, helping her sit down.

She lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. “Why’d you bring me here?”

“Because I saw you staring at this place … so I figured you wanted to feel it.”

“Feel what?” She frowns playfully.

“The air. The leaves. Maybe a few drops of rain.” I wink. “Life.”

“Hmm … I do like it here, to be honest,” she muses. “I always loved the outside air. It makes me feel … alive.” She grins.

She closes her eyes and leans back against the bench, taking shallow breaths. The satisfied smile on her face makes me feel at ease. I hope being here will give her a little bit of peace, even though it’s not a lot to offer. I can’t do much, but at least, I can bring her here and let her enjoy the outside for a moment. Without the wheelchair and without the hospital bed, it’s almost as if she’s normal again. And there’s nothing wrong with pretending to be just that, either.

Sometimes, we just have to live the fantasy in order to feel human again.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” she whispers.

“Yeah … I love it.”

“I just wish I could get up and stand under the trees. Just for a little while.”

I sit up and look at her, waiting until she opens her eyes. “Just standing or more?”

She smiles as she cocks her head toward me. “And maybe dance a little. If I could.”

The left side of my lips perks up into a smile. “You can.”

I get up from the bench, stand in front of her, and hold out both my hands.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Take my hands.”

“Why?” She looks at them tentatively.

“Just take them.”

It takes her a while to agree, probably because she’s scared. But there’s no reason to be. I won’t let her fall. I never will.

I pull her up into standing position.

“Hold onto me for support,” I say, and then take a step back until I’m so far back she has to come to me. “C’mon. Don’t be scared. I’m here.”

One, two, three. Hop. Her leg sways, but she stays put, putting every ounce of weight on my arms.

“Again,” I say, taking another step back and tugging her with me.

She goes along with it, taking another step of blind faith.

I never take my eyes off her as she continues to hop closer to me. Not even when we reach the center of the field. Leaves are scattered all around us, and when the wind blows, a cascade of more leaves follows. Some drop on her head, making her giggle as she brushes them off.

I can’t stop looking.

I’m no longer afraid or embarrassed about it.

I simply am … in love.

“What now?” she asks.

I pull her as close as I can so I can wrap both my arms around her. “Put your arms around my neck.”

She complies, her fingers lacing behind my neck. I can feel the warmth of her skin against mine, and as I soak in the heat of the sun, I feel invigorated, strong. Strong enough to carry her across the ocean and back.