Ray walked back into the house. He was sleepy and he went straight upstairs. He suspected Debra would already be in bed half asleep.
He saw the light from under the crack in the door. He opened it and stepped inside. Debra was sitting on the bed. Her eyes were filled with fear, anger but most of all pain. She had her wrists held out in front of her, a blade in her other hand, hovering just above her outreached arm. It was almost like slow motion. She looked up when Ray entered. He had never seen her face look like that before. The look in her eyes was indescribable, so full of fear. She practically threw the knife across the room. Ray walked over to her. He wanted to shake her, he knew what she was about to do. He was scared; scared for his wife. She stood up quickly, her eyes were wide. She looked psychotic almost.
"Debra!" Ray said.
But she just ran. Ray wasn't sure whether or not to follow her. He almost felt as thought he shouldn't but then he was scared of what she might do. But what would he say? He couldn't even recognise Debra in this woman. Debra was strong, calm, centred. She wasn't like this. She didn't run away from things. How could Ray talk to this woman he didn't even know anymore.
But then an image formed in his head; Debra sitting on the couch crying, slicing her wrists, wanting to die. His beautiful wife, wanting to die. So he got up and ran, ran down stairs. She was sitting on the floor in front of the couch. He ran to her and knelt down beside her. Tears streamed down her face, but she refused to look at him. He put his hand on her cheek and turned her face gently towards his and her sad eyes looked up at him. She looked like death. At the moment he pulled her into him and held on to her for dear life, and she did the same.
Without saying anything Ray led Debra back upstairs, where they climbed into bed and turned out the lights. Ray held Debra in his arms and kissed her hair. Neither of them had said anything, and Debra was still crying softly to herself. But Rays big, warm arms wrapped around her gave her the strength and comfort to make it through the night. They didn't speak once, but they were comfortable curled up together.
Ray woke some time later. He could hear the sound of rain falling outside. Debra was still lying in his arms. She was sleeping. Outside the sky was grey and dull. Ray watched Debra sleep for the next 40 minutes. Eventually she woke. Her big deep brown eyes gazed up at him sheepishly. He tried to smile at her but it didn't come out right. She slowly closed her eyes again and rested her head on his chest. All she could mutter was the word "sorry".
Ray got out of bed for the day but Debra seemed content to stay put all morning. She dozed in and out of sleep and Ray brought her cups of coffee accompanied by a hug and kiss every so often. But mostly she slept, and Ray didn't want to disturb her peacefulness. Meanwhile Ray contemplated whether or not to seek advice from his family. For the first time in his life he actually felt like he wanted to go to his mother for help and advice but he knew that Debra, the real Debra wouldn't like that idea. Keeping her usual fiery spirit in his memory he decided against going to Marie for help. Instead he decided to make an attempt in asking Robert for help. Robert had always thought highly of Debra. He had always gotten on well with her and cared about her a lot. Now Ray only had to think of the right words to say.
Around one, Debra got out of bed. She came down stairs in her track pants and an oversized sweater. Her hair was messily tied up. She looked well rested but anxious, however. Ray rushed over to her when she appeared from upstairs. He smiled at her and she smiled back. When asking Debra if she wanted a cup of coffee, she firmly replied no. The rest of the afternoon Ray and Debra sat on the couch and talked. Debra explained that last night was an isolated incident and that she probably wouldn't have gone through with it anyway. She was vague about her feelings but told Ray she had simply had a bad day and that she was sorry for scaring him. She smiled slightly and patted his hand and said to him that she was fine and they should just forget it. Ray, however, was not convinced by her dull smile and the empty look in her eyes.
The rest of the afternoon the pair sat watching television, although Ray was more focused on Debra than the TV. She was still eating which was a good sign. Ray noted that she wouldn't sit still though. She kept shifting around in her seat and occasionally she would even stand up and re-position herself on the couch, she appeared rather agitated.
The next few days were just a blur for Ray. Debra was incredibly spaced out, in her own little world. She was cold, afraid and empty. Ray didn't know what to say to her and he didn't know how to treat her. Every time he tried to get close she would push him away. Not only physically but emotionally as well, she wouldn't open up to him, not even a little bit. She just told him day after day that she was fine. But Ray knew that she wasn't. Every time Ray tried to think of what might be the cause of Debra's sudden sadness, he shuddered to think of all the horrible possibilities. Was she depressed? Was she unhappy in her life? Or had something bad happened to her? He couldn't even bring himself to ask her. He just watched day by day and his beautiful wife drove herself further and further into the ground.