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Rue

Written by Makayla May

By Tinsel McSparklesPublished 2 years ago 9 min read
1

Morning came slowly, beginning at the farthest edges of the night and creeping toward the center of the sky. Rue watched the sun fight the moon for its place in the daytime sky. He was just reaching the end of his morning walk, his house coming into view. It was a nice house, middle class, so not extravagant but not shambles. He closed his eyes and breathed in the morning. The silence, the freshness, the dew, the slight chill despite it being late summer. The other houses in the neighborhood were coming to life with the sun. Kids getting ready for school, parents getting ready for work, elderly couples who get up out of habit. His house was the only one on the street that remained dark. No one was greeting the new day there. No one was breathing in the fresh morning. No one wanted the world to continue its orbit there. Not that house. Not anymore.

He walked through the doorway, careful not to make a sound. He walked up the stairs, peeking in his parents’ room. His mom was lying faceup, staring blankly at the ceiling. His father stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth with his eyes glazed over. He heard water running down the hall and knew his sister was in the shower, though, from the sound of it, she was standing under the water while it slowly turned cold. His shoulders sagged, imitating his soul, as he realized today would not be different. Today would not be the day life began to move on and get better. Today would not be the day they forgave him. He went to his room at the end of the hall and threw his sweaty shirt in the laundry bin. Grabbing his towel and a clean pair of clothes, he waited for his sister to finish up so he could rinse off before school.

Half an hour later Rue was dressed and ready with plenty of time to try talking to his sister. He’d tried every day for the past two weeks but to no avail. Still, he had to try. He quietly approached her room and pushed inside. She was standing in front of her mirror, dazedly brushing her hair. It looked as though she’d been brushing it for a while.

“Hey,” Rue said tentatively. No reaction. “Please talk to me,” he sighed. “Please don’t just ignore me forever.” Still nothing. He walked toward her, stopping right behind her. “I know you hate me, but please say something! Anything is better than this.”

She turned her head slightly, almost deigning to look at him. “I miss you, Rue,” she whispered.

“I miss you too, Vy.”

They arrived at school half an hour before the first bell. Plenty of time to stop at his locker and try to get his best friend to look at him. After walking with his sister in silence all the way here, he could use a pick-me-up. He made his way toward the senior hallway, knowing the way by heart. Tristan was already there, staring into his locker without actually grabbing anything. They had shared a locker since fifth grade, even though it was against the rules. As he got closer, though, Rue realized there was a box beside their locker halfway filled with his stuff. He slowed his pace, not ready to accept what was happening.

Tristan’s head turned slightly, sensing Rue’s arrival, but not fully taking in his best friend’s form. He hadn’t been able to since It happened.

“Hey, man, I know you’re upset,” Rue began, a bit of desperation slipping into his voice. “But you don’t have to get rid of me. We’re best friends. We can get through anything, right?”

“I don’t want to do this,” Tristan answered, still not looking at Rue. “I honestly probably would leave it here forever if it was up to me.”

“Then leave it,” Rue said, trying not to beg and failing.

“The school said I had until the end of the week. Your parents wanted to do it, but I convinced them to let me. They’re getting impatient though, so now I actually have to do it.”

“I’ll talk to them. Please, just let me try.”

“I wish…” Tristan trailed off, blinking tears back. “Why’d you do it man? I just, I don’t get it.”

“I had to, Tris.”

“You didn’t have to, so why? I don’t get it man! I don’t get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He sat in first period, waiting for the morning announcements to end so they could all get on with their day. Birthdays were the last category on the agenda because everyone always forgot them until the end. The voice over the intercom hesitated a minute before saying, “And for today’s birthdays we have Avila Chase, Nyssa Reynolds, Greg Roarke, and…” the intercom went silent. Everyone turned their heads toward the speaker at the front of the classroom, waiting to hear what would happen. Finally, the voice cleared its throat and continued. “And Rue Jabez.” Rue didn’t think the classroom had ever been as quiet as it was in that moment. No one moved. No one sniffed. No one even blinked. They all just stared, as if expecting the voice to return and take his name back. But it didn’t.

No one spoke for the rest of the period.

All Rue could think about was his conversations that morning. He had tried to explain. He’d given plenty of warning. He did what he thought he had to do. Why couldn’t anyone understand that? Why?

When the final bell rang, Rue got up and slowly walked out. Knowing Vy would skip soccer practice today, just as she’d done every day for the past two weeks, he met her at the front doors so they could walk home together, even if she wouldn’t talk to him.

A few minutes after leaving the building, Rue realized there were silent tears rolling down his sister’s face. He knew without asking that he was the cause.

The tears were dry before they walked through their front door. Vy went upstairs immediately, as always. Rue, however, followed his nose to the kitchen. His mother hadn’t cooked in ages. She had hardly even left her bed since The Incident. He stood in shock when he saw her standing, apron donned and everything, cooking his favorite dinner with a cake cooling on the table. He struggled to hold back his own tears as he took in the scene. He wanted to run to her and give her a hug that never ended. But that wasn’t possible. He would never be able to do that again.

He stood there and watched his mother cook. She put the meal in the oven and set the timer, then turned toward the cake. Putting it on a plate, she took a bowl of frosting that she had mixed together, just the way he liked it, and began spreading it over the cake. Once it was frosted, she took a tube of icing and drew a perfect number eighteen in the center, surrounding it with as many candles. She set it aside and began to set the table while she waited for the timer to go off.

Vy, smelling the delectable aroma from her room, came down the stairs to investigate. Seeing what her mother was doing, she began to help set the table. Rue moved to do the same but sensed their mother’s sudden tension and backed away. Vy and their mother didn’t speak. They didn’t even make eye contact. The timer went off and their mother checked the food, removing it from the oven and placing it in the center of the table.

Right on cue, Rue’s father walked through the front door. He stopped short at the sight before him. Then he looked at his wife, their eyes meeting for a moment of understanding. Tears shimmered in both sets of eyes, but none escaped their lidded cage. Mr. Jabez then went up the stairs to change out of his work clothes and quickly joined the two women at the table. Before, they had all prayed as a family before eating. Now, Mr. Jabez just began to serve the dinner.

They ate in silence. Forks scraping plates and cups returning to the table were the only sounds. After they finished the main meal, Vy cleared the plates and their mother got up to get the cake. Their father got some paper plates from the pantry while their mother cut the cake into perfectly measured slices. They ate the cake in the same painful silence, sitting and staring at their plates long after they had finished.

Finally, Vy stood and cleared all the dishes. She returned the cake to the counter, putting a piece on another plate and grabbing a plastic fork.

“I’ll be back,” she whispered to her father, knowing her mother was not fully present at the moment. “I think Tristan should have some of this.”

Nodding his agreement, Rue’s father stood and went to the sink, cleaning the dishes robotically as though he was not fully there either.

Vy grabbed her jacket to fend off the chilly evening breeze and headed out the door. Rue followed her, wanting to deliver the cake with her. Perhaps this could be a peace offering of sorts. A thread of a beginning of a bridge to close the gaping canyon that separated them.

But Vy didn’t head toward Tristan’s house. Instead, she walked toward the church.

They stood in front of a gravestone. Rue had known they would end up here as soon as he’d realized where Vy was headed.

“I brought this for you,” Vy began. Rue’s head snapped up. She was finally talking to him. His heart ached. “Mom made your favorite dinner and cake. She’s barely left her bed since….”

“I know,” Rue said. “I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t mean to do any of this.”

“Tristan emptied your locker today. He’s bringing over your stuff later. Figures he’d do it today. Honestly I didn’t think he’d ever do it.”

“Me neither. I hoped he wouldn’t.”

“In your letter, you asked me to forgive you. And I tried.” A tear finally broke free, sliding gracefully down her cheek. “But I don’t forgive you. You didn’t have to do it. You could’ve stayed. You chose to leave us. Me.”

“Ravyn,” Rue said, but she kept going.

“You killed us too. And I won’t forgive you for that. Not right now anyway.”

He wanted to say something. He needed to. But he couldn’t.

“Happy birthday Rue,” Vy said. “I hope you’re having a good one. I really mean that.” She stepped toward the stone and set the piece of cake in front of it. Then she stepped back and turned to go, but hesitated. Facing the tombstone again she whispered, “I love you.” Then she left.

Rue stared after her long beyond when she was out of sight. The sun set. Tears poured down his face with no sign of stopping. He knew it was too late, knew she wouldn’t hear him. But he whispered into the night anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

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