Minutes after dawn, the bright summer sun shot its killer sunrays in between the curtains, assaulting Rui’s eyes faster than she could cover them. She wriggled aimlessly in bed, wrapping and unwrapping her blanket, struggling to catch her breath. The air unleashed a thousand hooks onto her skin, tugging and pulling off her flesh for what seemed to be hours. She flailed her arms desperately as if she were pushing away the fishing lines. She swallowed her pain and got out of bed. It was finally the 27th, the day she was to leave everything behind.
She brushed her hair under the sunlight, but not before cursing at it. When she was younger, Rui had decided to try out empathy–for the sun at least. Day in and day out, she’d watch as it burned through the skin of travelers, how they melted and wiped off the excess with a square piece of cloth. She always thought of humans as walking candles but made of flesh. Oh, also lit during the day, and also–well, never mind. The list of comparisons was endless for Rui. She could compare a rock to a human, but never fully know why. She didn’t know much about the world. She was not allowed to think of it. Not under Abi's watch. As the years went by, she’d grown used to their demands. Abi knew what they were doing, and it was definitely for Rui’s wellbeing. At least, she hoped so.
Once in a year, Abi would gift Rui a book. ‘The 7 Habits of Highly Obedient Teenagers’ and ‘The Power of Then’ were among a few. When they were away, Rui would slip into the library to switch the books, but she kept one or two to avoid suspicion. She would sift through the dusty pages trying to find some meaning of her existence. How was the world outside and why was she hidden away from it? She soon learned that it was best to find out at an even pace. The earth wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was she. For the next few years. Or maybe months, or even weeks. Who was to know? She spent as much time as she could reading and rereading books, scribbling her notes on the insides of her clothes. She’d even found a calendar to mark the date. July 27th, or six months from then. And now, the time had come.
Abi was to leave to gather food for Rui. They did this every three months, trusting her to never disobey them, but she couldn’t stay here forever. She wore four layers of clothes, shoving as many as she could into her pocket. She had to bid goodbye to the rest, so she stood in the middle of the room, thanking them by name for their services. Once she was done, she carefully stepped out of her room, checking for Abi one last time. She made her way to the front door, but as soon as she grabbed the handle, sparks flew around her hand. She writhed on the floor as her hand twitched in pain. Of course, it wouldn’t be this easy. The windows wouldn’t budge either. Dejected, she made her way back to her room. She paced around, cursing at her fate, at Abi and the sun. ‘How dare the sun peek through my window to mock me every day and–wait.’ She stood still, letting the thought emerge. ‘If the sunlight could pass through the window, maybe a solid object could!’
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She gathered all sorts of objects she could find, assessing whether they could break through the glass. She threw her books, but the windows just rattled. She looked down, unable to think of anything else. As her gaze wandered, she looked to the chair. In a quick swipe, she shattered the window glass. She broke off the jagged ends with the backrest of the chair.
There, she was free at last! She sprinted across the field and didn’t stop running until it had grown dark. ‘This is bad,’ she thought to herself. ‘I’m already melting.’ She wiped the sweat off her brow, but the clothes she’d worn were wearing her down. She leaned against a tree, trying to rest. She tried to squeeze her eyes shut until she fell asleep, but that didn’t work. She stood up, watching the leaves rustle. She climbed on to the top of the trunk, grabbing the nearest branch for stability. In the distance, she saw a house with lit-up rooms. This was her chance. Maybe she could convince them to let her stay. Perhaps this was farfetched, but Rui did not care. Now was not the time to make assumptions. She dusted off the dirt from her clothes and walked to what she hoped would be a place of shelter. She gathered enough courage, she knocked on the door. Whispered voices and the sounds of chairs dragging scared her. ‘What if this is a bad decision?’ she asked herself. Slowly the door handle turned. A figure cloaked in darkness answered the door. As it brought the lamp up to its face, Rui shrieked in horror. Abi grabbed her by her shoulder and dragged her inside.