Chapter 18: Hysteria

TRIGGER WARNING: There may be some content in the following chapter that may trigger some readers. Discretion is advised.

\[Rue’s POV\]

It feels like the earth is crumbling beneath my feet, and as it starts to spin and I stumble, I feel strong, sturdy arms wrap around me, but even when they should bring me some warmth, I feel like ice is starting to slowly flow through me.

“Are you okay?” The doctor asks as Mr. Owens holds me steady. “Should we maybe…”

“No,” Mr. Owens responds. “She just needs to sit.”

As he speaks, he leads me toward the sofa that he was sitting on earlier and lowers me.

“You should stay here,” he says, and I shake my head.

“No,” I tell him. “I want to see her.”

I didn’t know why, but I felt that if I saw my mother, then everything would be okay.

I would walk into her room and she would be sitting there on the bed with a look of amusement on her face. She would then tell me that it was all a joke and that she would be on the mend.

“I’m going to see her,” I repeat more firmly.

Unwilling to just sit around I stand despite the look that Mr. Owens is giving me and then I fix my gaze on the doctor.

“Can I see her?” I ask. “I want to see her.”

“Of course,” he responds. “Please follow me.”

Nodding, I wait until he begins to move, and when I start to follow, Mr. Owens’ hand wraps around my wrist.

“What?” I ask, turning and taking him in. “Are you planning on trying to stop me?”

For a moment, he doesn’t speak as he stares at me, and I can see the want to stop me in his dark gaze, but then I also see his acceptance that I won’t do as he says.

“I’ll come too.”

It is all he says before he moves ahead, taking the lead, and when I think that he is going to release me, he doesn’t.

Silently, we move together down the hall and toward the room that my mother is waiting in, but when we enter, she isn’t sitting up waiting for me like I tried to fool myself into believing.

Instead, she is lying on a bed with a sheet pulled up to her chin so that only her face can be seen, and that face is something that will forever haunt me.

When they say that a dead person isn’t a pleasant sight to see, they aren’t kidding.

It’s terrifying and unnerving, and it makes my heart squeeze.

The woman lying there isn’t the mother that I remember, but if I just close my eyes for a moment, that is the woman I can see.

“I will leave the two of you to say your goodbyes.” The doctor murmurs, turning and heading out of the room so that all that are left are Mr. Owens and me.

“Would you like me to step out so you can be alone?” Mr. Owens asks as I gently untangle my wrist from his grip and move forward. “I can…”

“No,” I murmur, stopping beside my mother and taking her in. “It’s fine if you stay.”

She would have wanted you to be here for me. I think silently, and I feel a wave of guilt slam into me.

Was this the universe's punishment for my sinful thoughts and deeds?

Was this what I got for coveting that which did not belong to me?

Then why did my mother have to die instead of me? Why was the only innocent person in all of this taken so quickly?

It’s my fault.

Tears spring to my eyes as this single thought hits me, and I’m dropping to my knees.

“Rue,” Mr. Owens hisses, but as he moves to help me, I shoot him a look.

“Don’t touch me,” I whisper, hating that even as I say the words I want him to do just that. “Just…”

I don’t finish my sentence as sobs begin to wrack my body, slamming into me like waves that threaten to drown me in the ocean of despair I’m feeling.

“Just don’t touch me.”

How? How could I be so awful and wish for something that belonged to the woman in front of me? How could I feel such things while she was suffering, and even now, when she was gone, I still felt them?

“It’s my fault,” I whisper, burying my face in her mattress. “This is all my fault for being such a horrible daughter.”

Please. I beg silently. Please bring her back and take me instead. Please bring her back to me. If you bring her back, I swear that I won’t think such awful things about Mr. Owens ever again, just please…

“Please, don’t go.” I whisper, reaching out and cupping my mother's hand and then hissing in shock when I realize that the warmth that I am usually met with when I do such a thing is slowly disappearing.

“Mom,” I sob as a hand touches my shoulder. “Please don’t leave me. Come back! Please come back! I swear I won’t ever do anything to hurt you ever again!”

As the words leave my lips, I can feel Mr. Owens’ silent presence behind me, but I don’t dare look in his direction because I fear what he probably looks like right now.

“It’s going to be okay.” He says quietly, his hand gently kneading my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

“It won’t,” I counter, hating that he could even say such things. “This happened because of me.”

“And what could you have possibly done to cause such a thing?” He asks, causing me to turn my watery gaze to him.

“You of all people shouldn’t ask such a thing.

He could pretend all he wanted to that what happened after their wedding didn’t actually happen, but he knew as well as I did that it did.

“Because I was such a horrible daughter, she was taken from me.” I continue, hysteria starting to slam into me. “It’s because I was so bad that the universe took her from me. It should have taken me instead.”

That’s right, I think, slowly standing and turning my gaze toward some surgery tools that still remain.

Even if the universe didn’t take me, I could still give myself to it. Maybe if I did that, then my mother would come back.

Willing to try anything, I begin to move before Mr. Owens can stop me, and then I’m grabbing a scalpel and putting it against my throat.

“Take me instead,” I whisper, beginning to pull it across my skin. “And bring her back.”