The Darkness Of Healing // Ruel // English

Chapter 39

I shoot out of my dream when I see the accident again, when I see the blood gushing from his body. I gasp, grab my chest to pull the weight off, and try to place my head in reality as I sit up. My chest rises and falls, not taking in enough oxygen to cool off quickly from the panic.

I get to see the accident more often than I would like, I thought it had been given a place by now. That I could put it behind me because it seemed to be all right in the end. It strikes me that when I dream about it, I keep seeing different images, as if I'm looking through someone else's eyes. That I view the situation as if I were a ghost that you can drive through yourself. Often I am not the version of myself that I was during the accident. The one who lay on the street by the hands that pushed into her back. I wasn't the one who actually saw him fall, I just heard it. Yet I see it happening in my dreams and I don't know if it actually happened that way, rather not. Sometimes I see versions where the bones break and tear out of his skin when he falls to the ground, sometimes Ruel just disappears into dust and I lose him. I just don't understand why it keeps chasing me when I try to put it behind me and focus on what's left of it, instead of dragging the whole event after me.

Ruel: "Good morning to you too."

Startled, I shoot up from Ruel's sudden voice in the pitch-dark room. I blink a few times and turn into a comfortable position to get a better look at him.

The boy sits up in bed with his back leaning against the headboard. A pillow is stuffed under his back. His eyes are glassy, ​​but his gaze is alert in a way that tells me he's been awake for a while. It's too dark in the room to see why he's sat down so extensively instead of sleeping.

Yasmine: "What are you doing?" I ask him. Ruel probably won't even be able to see the slight frown on my forehead.

Ruel: "Um." Ruel's eyes search the room, his answer should be somewhere. His gaze falls on the blanket around him. He stiffens and blinks a little fuzzy, as if he's still figuring out what he's actually doing. He lifts the blanket from his lap to look under it. I stretch myself a bit to get a better look until I realize he has a large mug in his hands. With the little bit of light that is present in the room, I can barely make up what it looks like. It's a bit like tea. What is this boy doing so early?

Yasmine: "What are you drinking?"

A small smile escapes his mouth as I try to take the mug from his hand and smell the liquid. My head shoots back as the sharp smell burns my nose.

Yasmine: "Do you seriously have a whole mug full of whiskey?"

Ruel: "I wouldn't call it a full mug, it's not that bad." I notice he sounds a little tipsy. There is a certain giggle over his words that takes away all seriousness.

Yasmine: "Okay, how much have you drunk already?"

I bet that whole mug was full. When I run my finger along the ceramic wall of the mug and feel how high it has been filled with liquid, I can conclude that it was probably 4 centimeters below the rim. That's just over 250 ml, more than 5 shot glasses anyway.

Ruel: "Not so much... Do you want too? I've got something left for you." Offers Ruel when he hands the mug to me. I take that chance to click on the light from the lamp on the bedside table. I close my eyes and let out a deep sigh as I see how little is left in the mug.

Yasmine: "Ruel seriously? I can see the bottom."

Ruel: "It is also the intention that you can see through it, but if you don't want to ... I'll drink the last bit myself." Ruel replies stubbornly. He clumsily snatches the mug from my hands again, nearly pouring the liquid onto the bed.