Growing up, Rue has always found his mother's rules strange. Rue was told never to take off the gloves while outside, and before a speck of new growth could grow on his head, his mother would dye the color brown. Rue loved her very much, but he alwa...
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"Do we have to do this now?" Rue asked his mother even though he knew it wasn't up for discussing.
His mother had forcefully pulled him away from his artwork, to a chair in the bathroom, wrapping a cloth tightly around him. She took oil and rubbed it around his hairline and began squeezing the brown dye she had made onto his hair, slowly working it in.
"Mom, I don't want this, and I can't see new growth!" Rue cried as he pulled his head away. The dye always burned his scalp, and the smell of it always took days to faded away. Ignoring him, his mother grabbed a lock of his hair and pulled him back into the chair. "That hurts!" he cried, as warm tears rolled to the edge of his eyelids.
"You must be still!" His mother shouted, her voice trailing into a whisper, which still startled him. Rue settled back into his seat using the cloth to dry the tears that wouldn't stop falling.
After several minutes of quiet cry, Rue shouted, "No one else has to dye their hair!" and then he quickly covered his face with the cloth.
His mother froze. He could feel her fingers trembling as she walked from behind him to the front of him, dragging down the cloth to see his face. His mother's brown eyes always looked tired when he looked into them, but now her eyes tightened with stress as if the world had suddenly collapsed around her. She cupped Rue's face pressing her forehead to his, small bits of the dye from his hair transferred onto strands of her hair.
"How do you know that?" she asked him.
When Rue saw his mother's frightened reaction, he swallowed hard and said, "No one at school talks about it."
"Do you?" she asked. Her breathing was heavy, and tears rounded in her eyes.
"No," Rue replied, and that was the truth.
His mother hugged him, kissing his cheeks over and over again. "Good, because if you do. They will take you away and kill us both," She growled standing.
"You said I was a gift from God! If so, why are we living in fear?" Rue asked, sadly.
"You are just like your father. Lilac eyes more beautiful than any flower I've ever seen, hair as white as snow. Normal boys don't look like you, especially boys born from brown mamas. They surely don't hear or see the things you do. Animals aren't drawn to them, and they don't have to wear gloves to avoid sicknesses. Last, but most important, normal children's eyes don't bleed when they are angry. Those that do, do you remember what I told you they are called?" she asked, her voice very soft.
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