Inside their humble abode, a frail woman, her movements labored and sluggish, carefully navigated through the small, dilapidated structure carrying a plate in her trembling hand. Despite her weakened state, she persisted in tidying up after breakfast.
She coughs heavily, a sound that echoed through the quiet room, causing concern
"Rodrigo! Rodrigo!... It's time to get ready," she called out, her voice strained with exhaustion.
"I'm almost ready..." Rodrigo's voice drifted from the bedroom, tinged with worry for his mother.
As Rodrigo's mother, though not advanced in years, her weary complexion betrayed the toll of sickness and hardship. With each movement, she seemed to carry the weight of her suffering.
As she reached for the plates on the table, another bout of coughing overtook her, leaving her doubled over and struggling to regain her composure.
With a fragile grace, she sank into the worn cushions of their makeshift living room, the sound of her descent amplified by the aged furniture.
Rodrigo, alarmed by the sound, emerged from his room, his concern palpable. "Mom, what's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked, his voice trembling with worry and care.
"I'm okay," she reassured him, though her cough hinted otherwise.
"But it sounded like you fell," Rodrigo pressed, his concern evident in his searching gaze.
"Nah, just a little stumble. I'm better than yesterday," she managed a weak smile, trying to ease his worry.
"But you're still coughing," Rodrigo pointed out gently, his eyes filled with concern.
"Cough? Nah, I didn't..." she began, only to be interrupted by another violent fit of coughing, forcing her to cover her mouth with a faint cloth.
Rodrigo moved closer, sitting beside her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, his actions conveying his deep care for her.
He sat in silence, contemplating their situation. Despite his efforts to purchase medicine, her condition seemed to worsen.
"They must be fake drugs," he muttered under his breath, frustration evident in his voice.
"Don't worry about me, Rigo," she said softly, using the affectionate nickname she often reserved for him. "I'll be fine. You need to focus on school."
"But you need me here. I can help you," he insisted, his determination clear.
"No, you can't fulfill your dreams of becoming a pharmacist while staying under this roof," she reminded him gently, her words laced with love and sacrifice.
"You need to go out there and pursue your dreams," she insisted, though interrupted by another coughing fit, momentarily slowing her speech. "You can help me best by becoming the pharmacist you've always dreamed of."
"But you need me now more than ever. What if things worsen after I'm gone? Who will take you to the hospital?" Rodrigo's concern was evident in his voice.
"That's where Sandra, my friend, comes in," she reassured him.
Rodrigo bowed his head, a sense of helplessness washing over him. "Mum, Sandra lives 10 miles away. What if something happens and she can't make it in time?" he pleaded.
"Going to school shouldn't be my priority now," he continued, but his words trailed off as he realized his mother's determination.
"You've never been fond of school, but don't let my illness be the reason you stay home. Remember your dream of creating the perfect drug for me?" she reminded him gently.
With a heavy heart, Rodrigo knew he couldn't convince his mother to let him stay.
"You mean ermm, Meadanium, right? Meadanium it is!" she added, further cementing his resolve to honor her wishes.
Despite his genuine desire to stay home and care for his mother, Rodrigo reluctantly donned his slightly wrinkled blue and white school uniform.
He grabbed his solitary book, its pages worn from constant use, and twirled a pen in his hand as he prepared to head to school.
Before leaving, he stole a glance at himself in the cracked mirror hanging precariously on the wall. "Hey, handsome," he murmured, attempting to bolster his self-confidence for the day ahead.
"Try to stay away from the ladies, though. They all love smart and handsome guys!" his mother teased with a playful grin before he stepped out the door.
"As always!"
As Rodrigo took a few steps outside the door, he was jolted by the sound of his mother's violent coughing. Unlike her usual coughs, this one sounded intense and alarming. With a sinking feeling in his chest, he hurried back into the room to check on her.
As he entered, the sight that greeted him was horrifying. His mother was vomiting blood, her body wracked with coughing fits.
"Mum? Mum?!" he cried out in panic, rushing to her side.
He held her close, his school uniform now stained with her blood, as she began to lose consciousness before his eyes.
"Help! Help! Somebody, please help!" he shouted desperately, his hands trembling as he tried to keep his mother awake.
But despite his efforts, she slipped further into unconsciousness, her eyes staring at him with a look of concern.
"You'll be okay, Mum?" Rodrigo's voice cracked with emotion, tears streaming down his face. "Nod if you believe me..."
But there was no response, only silence from his mother, her unwavering gaze fixed on him.
"You're still here, right?" he pleaded, his heart heavy with fear and uncertainty.
"Mum? Mum?!"