Chapter 7 — The Untouched Plate of Rice (Numb in an Anonymous Embrace)

“Ara, our baby is gone. Please, stop hurting yourself.”

Mr. Orion touched Ara, who was lying stiffly on the floor. Her hands held an empty basket, tightly clutching a silent doll.

“You haven’t eaten since last night. I beg you, just a bite. You’ll get sick,” Mr. Orion pleaded, holding his wife’s hand firmly.

The untouched plate of rice sat neglected. The steam had vanished, replaced by a cold chill. Teardrops seemed to dot the rice.

“My baby won't eat for eternity, so how can I fill my stomach? Every taste will be bland forever,” my sister’s faint voice echoed in my ears. Her eyes remained blankly fixed on the basket.

Breathing heavily, Mr. Orion fought hard to hold back his tears. He repeatedly tried to lift her from the floor. But her body seemed as if it didn't want to move even an inch.

“Your baby would cry if they saw you like this.”

Waking from her trance, my sister looked Mr. Orion straight in the eye. “Shouldn’t you be losing your mind like me? Don't you feel the pain?” Her red eyes glistened, as if demanding an answer from her husband.

“Don’t be like this, Ara.”

"You didn’t feel that heartbeat growing inside you. You didn’t carry them for nine months while they breathed… Do you know what it feels like to endure the pain and the joy while trying to give birth? And when they were born, they didn’t cry like other babies,” her voice trembled more violently, her hands gripping Mr. Orion’s arm tightly.

“Why was our baby taken? Why wasn't it me instead?” She sobbed loudly. Mr. Orion pulled her into an embrace, holding her so tight.

My heart shook; I didn't know what to do. My hand trembled as I held the open door. I sobbed behind the wall, then quickly retreated to my room.

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The days passed by. Heavy rain continued to fall. Lightning struck, and the wind blew harshly. The door swung open and shut. Tears of rain leaked through the window. In reality, it wasn't just one person who was hurt. This entire house was weeping in grief.

“Ara, where are you going?” Mr. Orion asked as she passed him.

“I want to rest.” Ara closed the door. She didn't let anyone knock.

Ara stopped working entirely. For days, she didn't leave her room. She refused to get out of bed. Her face was pale and swollen, hidden behind the blankets. Meanwhile, Mr. Orion always sat brooding on the sofa. He didn't eat, didn't drink; he couldn't even bring himself to pick up a spoon. Eventually, my sister lashed out when Mr. Orion tried to force her to go out.

“I don’t want to! I told you I don’t want to go out!” Ara’s hands pounded on Mr. Orion as he forcibly lifted her from under the covers.

As he tried to put her in the car, Ara bit Mr. Orion’s hand and pushed him until he fell to the ground. Like a mixture of terror and exhaustion, she ran back to her room.

Mr. Orion and I decided to go to a psychiatrist. It took weeks to get the results.

“After the accident where Father and Mother died, she always blamed herself. I saw her have a seizure once. She also avoids family photos, news about accidents, or any place that sparks a fire. Her emotions shift easily, and after the baby died, she locked herself away,” I explained to the psychiatrist.

“The suspicion points toward Ara experiencing CPTSD, or Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and NEAD, or Non-Epileptic Attack Disorder. The guilt and massive trauma make her feel terrified when encountering things that remind her of the trauma.”

We then brought one of Ara’s psychiatrist colleagues to the house.

“I’m not sick. I’m healthy. I am a psychiatrist; I am the one who heals.” Ara shook her head repeatedly, refusing to be examined. Her hands were clenched tight as the psychiatrist held them.

“No, Ara. You aren’t sick. We are just here because we want to make you feel better,” the psychiatrist said, trying to calm her.

“I am already better. Can't you see? I just want to rest.” Her sunken eyes were pleading. Begging to be let go.

She grew hysterical. Forced by the situation, they had to sedate her to calm her down.

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Three months passed. Ara regularly visited the psychiatrist. Her condition began to improve, though she still had to undergo routine therapy and take medication. The atmosphere at home began to warm up, though there was a lingering sense of awkwardness—perhaps it was just me. In a week, I would leave for America to attend university on a scholarship. I had prepared everything, packing all my clothes and personal belongings. Leaving the house, my sister, and all the memories I had. Including Mr. Orion.

Finally, the day of the Scout competition arrived. My friends and I represented the school. The whistle blew, and the morse code session began. All eyes were on me. Holding the flag without music. Moving it left and right in sync with my heartbeat. My breath caught; my lips trembled. I masked my shaky voice with the rhythm of my teammates. Until my stick fell; my friends glanced at me for a split second. I quickly picked up the flag, its crumpled fabric forced to wave.

The winners were announced on the field. Hearts were pounding, and hands were held tight with eyes closed. Then, the announcement blared through the megaphone.

“The first and second place winners are….” My heart raced. “High School 1 and High School 3!”

Cheers ignited happy laughter. Hugs soared toward the sky in emotion. Even though we were second, the struggle still deserved a celebration. However, my eyes turned blue as I locked gazes with Mr. Orion. He showed no expression at all.

Even when we met at the bus stop, we were strangers, not daring to look at each other for even a second. Truly, I never hoped for it to be like this. A power I never asked for. A feeling that entered without permission. Numbness was just a way to survive. An affection that grew from the cracks of trauma. It didn't feel greater than love.

We were like a couple who broke up due to a misunderstanding. There was no romance or love; wherever those verses came from, I was just making it up—it was only my one-sided admiration.

I sobbed in my room. I packed all my things into the suitcase. Including my tears.

“Karina, can I come in?”

I stood up, wiped my tears, and opened the door to let my sister in.

She sat beside me. Her lips looked hesitant to say something.

“Why don’t you date Dimas? He seems good for you,” she asked, her eyes searching mine.

I remained silent, not knowing what to say.

“About Orion... the gap between you is too wide. There will be conflict because you'll try to cover the cracks....” Ara looked into my eyes. Sobbing, she hugged me tightly. “If your relationship goes any further, it will become aimless, and someone will hurt or get hurt... don't get close, stay away from him.”

My emotions truly shattered. It wasn't about whether I liked Orion. It wasn't. But if I had to stay away from Mr. Orion, it meant I had to be separated from Ara. All my memories would only become relics of the past.

The day we had been waiting for finally arrived. The crowd at the airport exploded as we hugged. I didn't let go of my sister for even a second. She sobbed heavily on my shoulder, and so did I. Everything around us moved rapidly; sounds no longer reached my ears. When we finally broke the hug, she ruffled my hair.

“Chase your dreams as high as the sky. You must make Father and Mother in heaven proud.”

I nodded. She hugged me one last time.

“Take good care of Karina, Dimas.”

Dimas nodded with a smile.

Hands waved amidst the fast-moving hustle. He didn't come. I knew I would forget him, even if it took some time.

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