Falter

It was a time of sorrow for Tina. A moment of grief; of hatred. As she paced along the sandy paths, her heart thumped violently in her chest. Her vision blurred suddenly. The pain in her abdomen was resurfacing and the growing intensity made her wince. She stopped in her tracks, reached into her purse and pulled out a bottle of Tylenol. She uncapped the bottle, shook out two tablets and popped them into her mouth. She allowed the pills to rest above her tongue. The taste was awfully bitter, but she loved every single bit of it. Heck, if it means drinking my own piss if it takes the pain away, I'll be bringing my own cup the next time I place down the toilet seat. She gulped the Tylenol, thought about the cup, and chuckled. The sultry afternoon was not helping her emotions. It was mid-summer and the heat was absurdly burning. Tina figured she would bring along a couple of eggs and use the hood of her Toyota to cook herself some lunch the next time she visited this place. She pondered upon the idea and managed a faint giggle this time. This place, this place. The words started to echo in her mind as she resumed her steps. This place.

Without even realizing it herself, the grin which was there before morphed--almost instantaneously--into a frown.



September 18, 1994.

It was raining. The sound of raindrops bombarding against the window panes echoed along the corridor with a melancholic tune. Tina brushed her hair across her forehead as she sat in the kitchen in her pajamas. She rubbed her tired eyes and glanced at the wall clock. It was 2.17 in the morning. Robert was not back yet. Again. Tina stood up, walked to the counter and reached for a cup. As she was walking, she tripped over June. June growled, led out a small bark and ran into the living room, tail swooshing gracefully behind her back. Tina stopped in her tracks and looked into the living room, as if registering what had just happened. She shook her head slightly and blinked her eyes forcefully. She then paced towards the cabinet and searched for the packet of teabags. Her hand wandered aimlessly in the dark and managed to find it. She felt for the grainy texture of the bags and pulled them out. She set them onto the marble counter and lifted a pink mug. It was HER mug. Given by Robert umpteen years ago when the marriage was still fresh, still...salvable. Who are you trying to fool, Tina. He's gone. Here, but gone. She thought about it for a moment, decided to set it back down and opted for a simple white cup instead. She rinsed the cup and laid the teabag at the bottom of the cup. She reached for the label attached to the string and rested it against the side of the cup. Robert would sometimes say: It's like we're drowning them, Tin. It's like we're drowning them. And he would burst out into that contagious laughter of his. Tina would usually laugh along. But not this time, you prick. But not this time.

She placed the kettle of water onto the stove and turned on the fire. Die, you bastard. Burn in hell-

Tina winced in pain. The ache in her abdomen was intensifying by the day. She leaned her back against the fridge and sat down. She fumbled for the bottle in her pockets as she brayed in agony. Seconds seemed like minutes and minutes seemed like centuries. After what seemed to be a millennium, she finally pulled out a bottle of Tylenol. She uncapped it and attempted to shake a pill out but to no avail. Her hands trembled violently and she dropped the bottle onto the ground, scattering the tens of pills all over the cold kitchen floor. "Shit!" Tina cursed as she reached for the one nearest to her. She popped it into her mouth and relished the drug. As she was reaching for the rest of the pills, she heard a sound coming from the backyard. Her eyes shot up and she gasped almost too loudly. She clawed at the floor as she tried to gather the stray pills. No, no, no. He can't see me like this. It's not time. I've not told him yet. Please Lord, please don't let thi--

"Tin...?" a voice called out. "Is that...you?" The voice was weak, almost ghastly.

"Y-yeah, Rob. Just wait there! I-I'll get the door for you! Just wai-"

The doorknob jiggled a second or two and the door swung open. A gust of chilling air swarmed into the kitchen and the breeze brushed across Tina's cheeks. It was cold. So very cold. Her eyes squinted as the light behind the towering silhouette entered her eyes. It took her some time to adjust to the lighting of the environment. The film of light in her eyes faded as the her sight went back to normal. There was the door, the trees in the backyard, and there was Robert. Standing there with a bottle in his hand. His unshaven face was haggard and pale. The black rings beneath his eyes stood out like chocolate chips in a dash of vanilla spread. The stain around his neck suggested that that was no barbecue gravy. His hair was unkempt and gray. For a moment there Tina thought she wasn't looking at her husband of 16 years. She was staring at death itself. He was no longer Robert, but a total stranger.

"Wha..what IS all these?" Robert asked, eyes not blinking. His jaw was wide open, as though it was about to reach the floor. His tone was soft, just like how it would be every single time he caught someone else doing something he wasn't happy about. "Tin, what's all these?"

He stepped towards Tina and placed his bottle onto the dining table. His leather shoes squished noisily against the floor as he approached her. Tina was stunned. She was held in her place, unable to move. Here he was, drinking his sadness away, wanting to return home to see his beloved wife, and what does he get? A pallid looking woman, sprawled against the floor with her hands clutching a dozen of god-knows-what.

"Rob, I can expla--"

The pain was brief and sharp. The last thing Tina saw before the burning sensation sat in was a glimpse of shadow at the corner of her eye. Her eyes welled up with tears as she tumbled to the floor. She clutched her cheeks as blood dripped down her split lips. Despite the sting in her eyes, she glared at him with all the hatred and anger she could muster.

Robert stepped back and looked up at the ceiling, trying to avert her gaze. He blinked hard and wiped his palms across his face. "I try to earn that mere thousand or two every month just to feed us all, and all you can do is spend it on drugs?" Robert started to pace around the kitchen. His temper was beginning to simmer. It will soon begin to boil. "Last night I checked out joint account. There was almost a grand gone. The hell did you use it for? Shit like this?" He reached a chair and sat down. He was shaking his head. "I'm done, Tin. I'm done with this. Sick and tired of this hellhole. This relationship. It's eating me alive."

"Fuck you, Rob," Tina muttered as she tried to sit upright. "Fuck you and your drinking habit."

Robert stared at her, clearly taken aback by her bold statement. It was unusual for Tina to swear. He remembered witnessing her swearing only once prior to this. He remembered it like it was just last night. 23rd of May, it was her birthday. They were supposed to be at a candlelight dinner in the Waves. It was peak season and the only reason why Robert was able to book a place was because he made the reservation four months before that. They were on their way when a child ran out into the middle of the road. Robert swayed the car to a side to avoid the kid and ended up smashing into a street light. The last thing he could remember before passing out was Tina's "Bloody Hell".

Robert stood up and walked towards her again. He stepped on the pills and swiped them away with the bottom of his feet. He raised his arm and swung it forcefully. This time the force was hard and substantial. The sound of the impact ricocheted about the silent room, breaking the deepest of silence. He wiped his sweaty palms across his hair and went back to the chair. He pressed his hands against the surface of the table and sighed. "Don't you ever talk to me like that. Ever."

Tina's mind was cluttered. Her jaw hurt like mad (I think it's dislocated) but her heart hurt even more. 16 years without any physical abuse and now she received two in the span of five minutes. Oh, how time has changed. How he has changed. Tears rolled down her swelling cheeks in random rivulets. The kitchen rank with the smell of alcohol as the kettle purred silently. The kettle.

Tina pushed herself as she tried to stand up. She used the counter as a support and pulled herself up. She looked to the right and reached for the kettle. All these while her gaze never left Robert. She was staring at him not with the love that used to be there, but with contempt and vexation. It was heavy, the kettle. She carried it with both arms, tried her best to be as stealthy as possible, and did what she ought to do many years back, when Robert started his drinking habit.

What came next was the worse scream Tina has ever heard. It was painful. It was loud. It was sincere. Robert clutched his scalded face and collapsed to the ground. Steam filled the air as it emerged from the boiling water. She placed the kettle, now empty, onto the counter, and stood back. She watched her love (once was) writhe in pain as she felt a familiar sensation at the corner of her lips. It took her awhile to realize that she was actually smiling.

***

Robert was pronounced dead 12 hours after the incident. He suffered a myocardial infarction due to the sudden stress and burn. 40% of his skin suffered from third degree burn. Tina received the news with much nonchalance. She could only do so much on the emotion side of things. Pretending to cry was not as easy as she thought it would be. The police has been involved and has reached a (satisfactory) conclusion that it was due to foul play. Robert simply passed out by the stove while the water was boiling, June came along and tugged at the wire, kettle falls, burns Robert, Robert dies. Simple math. As simple as ABC.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hudson."

"I understand, you guys tried your best." "Oh, and please call me Tina."

***

Tina halted her steps as she reached her destination. The sun was now directly above her, casting a long and depressing shadow down at the ground next to her. She stood there for a couple of minutes and thought about Robert. She clutched the file in her hands tighter as she wiped the tears off her eyes. She stepped forward and laid her hands onto the surface of the tombstone. It was oddly cold to the touch despite the weather. "Hey, Rob," she whispered. "I've got something for you." She knelt down and placed a folder in front of the stone. Inside the folder were a few pieces of paper. "Hope you still remember how to read."

She got back up and looked at the stone for a couple more minutes.

Robert Hudson

1966-2014

A man of truth and righteousness

"Goodbye, Robert." Tina murmured under her breath. "See you on the other side soon." She gave her eyes another wipe and paced back to where she came from.

The folder sat quietly and solemnly on the ground, not perturbed by the mild zephyr or the blazing sunlight.



Rob,

Hi there. I know that this is really foolish of me to do, but i have been suffering ever since that day. I need to get this off my chest. I love you, Rob. But I guess that was my weakness. My love for you got the better of me. I reacted. Badly. I know that is was my fault. It IS my fault. But you can't blame me for EVERYTHING. That night. That night you were bad.

I was not a druggie. Never one. Remember the time when we were walking along the park and we saw a homeless man having a sign: "DRUGS DID THIS TO ME"? We swore to one another that we will never do drugs. And you said that it could ruin your life and I said because it's expensive as hell? Yeah. I would never do that.

The pills you saw were painkillers. They were (are) for my abdominal pains. I was thinking of breaking the news to you on that day, but who knew. So here I am, writing to someone who isn't even here anymore (no offense). I have ovarian cancer. The serious one. The doctor said I had 3 months to live. And that was 2 months ago. The one grand that was missing? I took it for my treatment. What can I say. Healthcare services can be a pain in the ass. Especially when you're having cancer.

So, yeah. I guess I'll be seeing you soon, Rob. Till then.

Love, Tin.