Performatively Reading

Ah Yi looked at her mother.

Laying in bed, breathing laboriously, her near skeletal chest struggling to draw in breath yet so easily exhaled it with an involuntary groan. Her mother has been bed bound the past 4 hours. Ah Yi held onto her mother’s hand, grown so pale, bony and sinewy from malnutrition. It’s shaking, struggling to stay upright, the blood slowly reducing circulation and leaving the faint fear of growing cold.

Xiao Yi, a strained, weak voice whispered out. Her eyes struggled to open any wider as she tried to look at her beloved daughter’s face. My bao-bei, don’t cry.

Ah Yi wiped her tears and nodded, unable to say anything without crying even more. Her hair tied so messily in a half hearted bun, her clothes were just ratty gray oversized dressed shirt and stained gray sweat pants. Her feet on the cold floor, dirtied from rushing into the room – the mud starting to dry into a crackly crust, leaving little bits of fallen chips of mud on the floor. Her face red, her eyes swollen from the tears and her nose dripping with snot as she held back her cries.

The bed is lightly covered, with a sheet cover and a light blanket tucking her mother gently into place. The pillow showing dried stains of tears, the top of the blanket slightly damp. Ah Yi strived to keep the room filled with her mother’s favourite flowers, which was anything yellow as she saw it as the colour of freedom and happiness. Daisies, dandelions and dyed roses adorned the side cabinets, tables and the window.

Ah Yi, whispered her mother as she tried to lick her her dried chapped lips to moistened it. Be brave, be good, be happy, okay? For mah-mah?

Today was a bad day for rain.