He opened his eyes, the spot next to him was empty. He reached across the bed, his phone says its 2.36 AM. He peeked around, no lights coming from the bathroom. Where is she? He made his way to the kitchen, partly thirsty and partly curious to find out her whereabouts. He passed by the living room, not a sign that anybody was there. He gets to the kitchen, it was so quiet, everything was so still, you can even hear if a pin drops. The dishes are neatly arranged, as how they left it after supper. Now he became more curious, where could she be?
With a glass of water in his hand, he wandered around the house, skimming through every inches, to find any sign of her. Still, nothing. He is now at the last room. He can't remember the last time he went into the room. The door was ajar, but there were no lights. He recalled that she asked for that room to be her private room, not that everybody is not allowed to enter, but she wants the whole room to herself. He agreed, thinking that maybe she wanted the room to be her project space. Since then, he forgot about it.
He pushed the door slowly. The room is partly furnished. Its hot in here, the air condition unit was not turned on. There is a few shelf at the end of the room, with few baskets with balls of yarns. There is a working table with a small sewing machine set up on it. His gaze fell in the middle of the room. A figure curled into a 'C' shape. Her knees was up to her chest, hands in between her stomach. She was lying on an Afghan carpet. As soon as he stepped on it, he can feel his feet sunk. Well, this is comfortable, he thought to himself. She was on her side, facing towards the window. There is a bottle of traditional ointment, with the cap on the side. He can smell the ointment when he gets closer to here. Also, there is a bottle of water, half full, with a pack of pills that is unfamiliar to him. Mefenamic acid 500mg, that's what was said on the label.
She looks as if she is in deep sleep, few drops of sweats trickle down her forehead. He is on his knees now, looking over to her. Why is she sleeping here? What's wrong with her? She moans slowly, she changes side, facing him now. Her eyes are still closed, but she looks as if she's battling with some thing. She cringed and slowly she opened her eyes. 'What are you doing here?' She asked, her voice sounds week.
'I was looking for you. Why are you here?' He whispered softly, not wanting to appear disturbing to her.
'I'm having my menstrual, stomach cramps.' She didn't really answer his question. He seems puzzled. It was all boys camp in his house, he has never seen this, neither did he sees his mom in similar situation.
'What can I do?' Clueless. Yes he is.
She grabs something from the sofa bed nearby and passed it to him. 'Please fill this with boiled water. I didn't managed to get to the kitchen.'
He takes the water bag. Without much question, he made his way to the kitchen, fill the kettle halfway with water and put it on the electric stove. While waiting for the water to boil, he turned to his phone. Few taps away, he has some general idea what to do. The kettle whistles. He lifted it, fill up the bag and screw the top tightly. He made a detour to the main bedroom before he gets back to her. He grabs a spare comforter and two pillows from the cupboard.
TBC...
With a glass of water in his hand, he wandered around the house, skimming through every inches, to find any sign of her. Still, nothing. He is now at the last room. He can't remember the last time he went into the room. The door was ajar, but there were no lights. He recalled that she asked for that room to be her private room, not that everybody is not allowed to enter, but she wants the whole room to herself. He agreed, thinking that maybe she wanted the room to be her project space. Since then, he forgot about it.
He pushed the door slowly. The room is partly furnished. Its hot in here, the air condition unit was not turned on. There is a few shelf at the end of the room, with few baskets with balls of yarns. There is a working table with a small sewing machine set up on it. His gaze fell in the middle of the room. A figure curled into a 'C' shape. Her knees was up to her chest, hands in between her stomach. She was lying on an Afghan carpet. As soon as he stepped on it, he can feel his feet sunk. Well, this is comfortable, he thought to himself. She was on her side, facing towards the window. There is a bottle of traditional ointment, with the cap on the side. He can smell the ointment when he gets closer to here. Also, there is a bottle of water, half full, with a pack of pills that is unfamiliar to him. Mefenamic acid 500mg, that's what was said on the label.
She looks as if she is in deep sleep, few drops of sweats trickle down her forehead. He is on his knees now, looking over to her. Why is she sleeping here? What's wrong with her? She moans slowly, she changes side, facing him now. Her eyes are still closed, but she looks as if she's battling with some thing. She cringed and slowly she opened her eyes. 'What are you doing here?' She asked, her voice sounds week.
'I was looking for you. Why are you here?' He whispered softly, not wanting to appear disturbing to her.
'I'm having my menstrual, stomach cramps.' She didn't really answer his question. He seems puzzled. It was all boys camp in his house, he has never seen this, neither did he sees his mom in similar situation.
'What can I do?' Clueless. Yes he is.
She grabs something from the sofa bed nearby and passed it to him. 'Please fill this with boiled water. I didn't managed to get to the kitchen.'
He takes the water bag. Without much question, he made his way to the kitchen, fill the kettle halfway with water and put it on the electric stove. While waiting for the water to boil, he turned to his phone. Few taps away, he has some general idea what to do. The kettle whistles. He lifted it, fill up the bag and screw the top tightly. He made a detour to the main bedroom before he gets back to her. He grabs a spare comforter and two pillows from the cupboard.
TBC...
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“Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I will not forget you." ~ William Arthur Ward...
So what say you? ;)