Heartkiller

Saturday November 16, 2013

The days mulled by uneventfully. Ville would peel himself off the couch on Tuesdays to go to therapy, but otherwise, he slouched about the apartment, guitar in hand. Sometimes he was writing new songs, sometimes he was playing old favorites. But he was always lamenting the loss of his wife, his love. His days felt empty. He felt empty, as though a part of him--a rather large part, in fact--had left with Avery, leaving behind a gaping hole. Ville felt like he was at the edge of a high cliff whereupon the chilly wind licked at the circumference of the hole in his chest, never allowing him to forget the pain he felt. The wound stung and its edges burned as the chasm grew wider and wider as the days passed. Ville could slip off that cliff any moment. He was hanging on by a thread.

He was downright miserable.

A spirit of her life was trailing behind him, pushing him onward. Yet, it wasn't enough. Nothing could fill the pit in his chest. He was left to his senses with only little contact with the outside world. His heart faintly beat along as he tried to pick up the leftover pieces of his relationship. A disheartening task, indeed.

Perhaps the only positive thing about Ville feeling so tormented was that it enhanced his music. As Bam had said upon listening to the Venus Doom album, “I hope you’re miserable all the time. You write better lyrics this way, and I get joy out of your misery.” Ville smiled at the thought. Bam was right. The pain and misery he felt were directly transferred into the songs; one could easily discern Ville’s status in life from simply listening to his music. HIM’s seventh studio album, Screamworks, was definitely the happiest one from the band’s repertoire; it was written during the period when Ville was falling in love with Avery. Unlike any other album in the past, which had usually been produced in reflection of a relationship or a love, Screamworks was written while Ville was experiencing the beginning stages of his most satisfying relationship. In contrast, Tears on Tape was the most heart-wrenching.

It was written during a difficult moment in his life as he and Avery attempted to deal with fate, an unjust beast.

Now, it was two weeks after the accident and he had written almost 8 songs, complete with melody and lyrics. The melodies flowed from his fingertips faster than he had a chance to jot them down. He would never tire of songwriting, that sweet nectar with which he could lick his wounds dry.

He was, however, hungry and completely out of food. For the past few nights he had been ordering takeout, but he was growing bored of the same pizza, pasta and sandwiches. It was monotonous. Lately, he had only ventured into the outside world for this therapy appointments. Ville hadn’t seen daylight in quite some time as the curtains were drawn throughout the apartment, leaving it pitch black. His only human interaction after Tuesday's appointment had been when the delivery boys dropped off his food. Remembering what Dr. Ashbury had said about becoming independent again, he decided he should probably go grocery shopping and make his own dinner. It was, after all, for the best. He followed through on his plans, albeit begrudgingly.

He walked to the street and had a mental dilemma as to how he wanted to go about doing this. Taking a cab would be easier on his legs, but he’d be left to his senses in a closed space, which wasn’t much different from being in his apartment. Or worse, the cabbie may be a happy-go-lucky fellow and try to start up some conversation about the approaching holidays or a sports game or some equally annoying topic for which Ville was not in the mood to discuss. Then again, the walk to the grocery store was quite long and he would have to carry them back home amidst a crowd of busy bee New Yorkers. After a moment of thought, Ville decided that the latter was the lesser of the two evils and made his way to the store.

The usually chipper city had become a black and white blur for him. It was hard to see the colors swirling through the picture when the artist of his world was no longer by his side. Ville pushed the brim of his beanie lower down his forehead and fished out his box of cigarettes. He had become more and more dependent on them lately, and the nicotine sticks filled the void which was once soothed by alcohol. The smoking wasn’t as damaging to his sobriety and day-to-day affairs as the drinking had been; however, both drugs were fatal in the hands of such a frail soul.

He reached the grocery store and put out his cigarette before entering. Grocery shopping was rather unfamiliar to him; on the road, he hardly ever had home-cooked meals, and Avery usually did the shopping for the apartment. Although he had run the errand once or twice in the past, it was still very new to him. It was ironic that a chore as basic as grocery shopping was foreign and gave him a case of jitters, whereas he felt completely comfortable on stage in front of thousands of people, which sent a rush of adrenaline through his body. Ville was accustomed to being a rockstar on the road, so much so that he found it difficult to integrate back into daily life.

He stood in the fresh vegetable section with his cart, watching the crowd of shoppers pass him by. Ville didn’t have the slightest clue as to what he needed to buy. Most people had grocery lists in their hands or at least some semblance of familiarity with the task ahead; Ville was a lost soul, wandering aimlessly through the aisles, not knowing what he wanted nor needed. He needed some direction.
It took a few minutes for him to orient himself. However, once he realized that he only had a few recipes in his stockpile of abilities, Ville went around the store and picked up the items he expected to use, disregarding the possibility that he already had some of them at home. He was deciding between two bottles of pasta sauce when he saw them. Not photographers. No, much worse.

He saw a couple fawning over each other in the middle of the pasta aisle. The woman had her hands around the man’s waist, and an engagement ring glistened on her finger. Her lips were stretched into a broad smile, showing off her pearly whites. The man was looking down at her with a charmed expression on his face, happy to be alongside the woman. The couple was muttering something unintelligible. It could just as well have been some discussion about what they were having for dinner or something equally uninteresting, but that’s not what Ville imagined it to be. He thought them to be talking about their weekend plans and where to vacation this time. Italy? Belarus? Turks & Caicos? Something exotic definitely. They needed to get away from the humdrum of their lives. Or perhaps they were remembering a fond memory from their relationship. Or maybe they were just expressing their love for one another in the simplest of ways.

Regardless, the sight made Ville upset. It made him yearn for that human interaction, that magical touch that Avery had. His heart ached. He knew that one way or another, he needed to get through this. He needed to get through life without Avery there to hold his hand and to kiss him and to lead him. But he couldn’t even fathom the thought. The idea of spending ten, twenty, thirty years without her here with him made him want to curl up into the fetal position right there in the middle of the pasta aisle. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair for her to leave him here alone; no, they were supposed to grow old together, to experience all that life had to offer together, and only then--only after they had spent their days enjoying their happily-ever-after ending--were they allowed to pass from this world. That’s the way things were supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to abandon him like this.

He sighed. What use was it to ponder such injustices now? It wouldn’t bring her back to him.

Pushing along the cart in front of him, Ville trudged through the aisles and gathered his items. Whilst walking past the bakery, he spotted something familiar and stopped in his tracks. English trifle. His favorite. He picked up the package and marvelled at the sight. It was a dessert he had discovered on one of his tour stops years ago. He had absolutely loved it, and even tried taking Avery to try some on their one year anniversary, but with no such luck. He was unable to find the original restaurant that he had tried the dessert in, although the item was actually quite popular and would have likely been served in most places.

September 18, 2007
Avery was on a business trip in London, finalizing a contract with a client. Ville was working on the Venus Doom promotion in Germany. It was the album release day and he was booked for a full round of interviews and press to promote the album and its accompanying tour. Since it was their one year anniversary, he had managed to fly into London for a mere two hours so that they could spend some time together. They met each other in front of her hotel.

"Hi, sweetheart," he greeted. “Happy Anniversary!”

"Hello, love. Happy Anniversary!" she replied.

They exchanged a hug and a kiss. Avery had her camera strap around her neck and a small purse for some personal belongings. She had dressed casually for the day.

"Where are we off to first?" She asked.

"Wherever you'd like."

"You must be hungry. Do you wanna grab something to eat first?"

"Sure. You know, there's this lovely place just up the street. I went there last time I was in town, and they have this amazing dessert."

"Sounds good."

The duo held hands as they made their way to the restaurant. Ville led the way as he was more familiar with where they intended to go, and the couple spent the walk sharing precious moments they felt the other person would enjoy. Avery's mother, for example, could not pronounce Ville's name no matter how hard she tried.

"I was talking to her this morning, and all she could get out was 'Vil.' She just kept calling you that." Avery recounted.

"Really?" Ville chuckled.

"Yeah, at first, she didn't even try it. She just said 'oh, is he flying in to see you?' And I said 'he? Who's he? Who are you talking about?' Even though I knew exactly what she meant. She goes 'you know...your boyfriend' and when I asked her what your name was, she said 'Vil, Vil...You know what I'm saying, don't make me butcher the poor boy's name.'"

"That's sweet. We must give her a proper lesson in how to pronounce it someday."

"Yeah, someday... Baby, do you know where you're going?'

"I think so. It should be just after this store..." They walked past it, only to find yet another boutique.

"Maybe not. Maybe I'm thinking of a place in a different city. I get them all mixed up."

"It's okay. We'll just keep walking; I'm sure we'll find something."

"Now that we're here, maybe we could go on that Ferris wheel. The London Eye, I think it's called. It looks nearby."

He felt her tense up, but she tried to play it off.

"No, you know, that's okay. We don't have to."

"It'll be nice, come on. We can see all of London from up there, and it'll be so romantic. We can't leave London without going on there."

"I don't think there's such a rule..."

"What's wrong?" Ville asked with a grin plastered across his face.

With every passing day, his heart grew fonder. Everyday, his eyes grew brighter. Everyday, he became stronger, better. He learned more and more about her, and she about him; he thought it impossible to love her more, but she would surprise him with some new detail, some new characteristic that would make his heart swell. This was one such moment.

'It's just, you know, heights aren't really my favorite thing ever." Avery tried to say nonchalantly.

"You're scared of heights?" She buried her face in his arm and nodded. "Ave, that doesn't make sense. You live on the 100th floor in New York City."

"43rd, actually." She corrected. "And that's different."

"How is that different?" Ville teased.

"Because that's a building with a solid foundation and walls and steel reinforcements. It's secure. This Ferris wheel is like a huge disco thing, and it could totally fall apart in the blink of an eye."

"Compelling argument, counselor.” He said sarcastically and smiled.

"Isn't it humbling to know that I have an Achilles' heel? I mean, bailouts, depositions, closing arguments? I can do that, no problem. Heights? Not so much."

"I think it's precious! But come on, we should go on it."

“Fine.” she huffed nervously.

They walked a few more blocks until they reached it while Avery made excuses the whole way there. She tried to say anything to convince him that there were better things to do in the short time they had together, but Ville wasn’t having it. He was just as stubborn as she was; Ville was determined to ride the Ferris Wheel that day. By the time they bought tickets and boarded a car, she had practically pulled Ville’s arm off because she was so terrified and tried to pull him away.

“Babe, it’ll be just fine. I’m right here.” He comforted.

She pouted. “If you say so.”

He simply couldn’t resist her when she pouted like that. Ville found it absolutely endearing; he bent down and placed a kiss on her lips, paying no mind to the other passengers in the car. She smiled once he pulled away and kissed him again.

“I love you.” She said.

“I love you more.” He replied.

Suddenly, the car started to move ever so slowly, but it was enough to startle her. Like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes widened and she remained still from fear. He wrapped his arms around her and gently rubbed her back. Pulling away, he took her hand, and they walked near the edge of the car; she remained slightly skittish but calmed after a few minutes. They stood beside each other looking out of the car at the beautiful scenery.

Avery had enjoyed the Ferris wheel ride after all. They never made it to a restaurant to try some trifle, though. After going through the store, he pulled up to the checkout line and loaded the items onto the conveyor belt.

“Hi, how are you doing today?” the clerk asked cheerfully.

She was way too happy for Ville’s liking. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid in a cab driver, but Ville didn’t have the foresight to expect this. The attendant had platinum blond hair tied into a ponytail and bangs that fluttered in front of her eyes. She looked to be no more than sixteen or seventeen years old, and this was likely a seasonal job for her during the holidays. He sympathized with the fact that she was only trying to do her job. Without wanting to create a scene, he remained polite.

“Good. How are you?” he answered.

“Pretty good. It’s been really busy today.” she answered.

“Oh.”

“Alrighty, your total is going to be $62.17.”

He fiddled through his wallet for the cash and a photo caught his eye in the folds. It was a party photobooth picture of the couple; Avery had an exaggerated look of surprise on her face and was wearing a midnight blue dress. She had a large fake mustache placed over her upper lip. Ville was next to her wearing an oversized pair of glasses that covered most of his face; his nose and mouth peeked through and he had puckered his lips. He didn’t remember taking this picture. Realizing he was still in the grocery store, he broke from his trance and pulled out a debit card and handed it to the clerk to finish the transaction.

“Here’s your receipt. Have a good day!” she greeted.

“Thanks, you too.” he said and gathered his grocery bags.

Ville made the trek back to his apartment, and he still couldn’t place when the picture was taken. It looked like it had been taken recently, but that’s as much as he had gathered. His hands were full, and he couldn’t pull out the picture to take a better look. Once he got up to the 43rd floor, he set his bags down and pulled out his keys to open the door. He took the groceries inside and set them on the kitchen counter. Immediately, he pulled out his wallet and took the picture out. There were several pictures on a strip, and the couple wore props in all of them. Seeing the whole set didn’t make a difference; Ville couldn’t discern any details as to when or where the picture was taken. He carefully put them back into the wallet and discarded the thought.

He began cooking, but it wasn’t much. Again, he wasn’t used to this, and he only knew how to make a select few things, most of which were rather basic. Tonight, he decided on spaghetti and mashed potatoes. How decadent. This is with store-bought pasta sauce and sans meatballs, mind you.
Ville set all of the food out on the dining table. He set one of his Black Sabbath vinyls in the record player and let the music permeate the apartment. It provided a nice backdrop for his lonely dinner given his odd taste. He twirled his wedding ring around his finger absentmindedly as he ate; he had only had a few bites when his cellphone started to ring from its place on the coffee table. He set his silverware down and rushed to pick up the phone.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hey, Villa. It’s Bam.” his voice was rather solemn. “Look man, I’m really sorry. I just heard about...”

Ville settled into the couch. He was aware of Bam's busy life and didn't take any offense to such a long overdue phone call. They hadn’t spoken very often after Ville had gone to rehab, although it was for no other reason than a conflict of schedules. Venus Doom and the albums thereafter had garnered great success, so Ville was usually always off touring or recording with only an occasional visit from Bam. The Pennsylvania native also had a busy schedule between filming the Jackass movies and dealing with the troubles of his own marriage. As a result, it had been several months since the two had spoken.

"Yeah… thanks for calling.” Ville replied.

"What happened?"

"Um, It was a car accident. Somebody slammed into us from the side, and, uh, she got caught in all the metal. The firefighters couldn't get to her in time."

"I'm really sorry. How are you holding up?"

"Okay, I suppose. I’ve been lounging about, and that’s about it. I really wish everyone would stop asking me how I’m doing though," he replied with a light tone.

"Ah, I mean, people are just concerned."

"Yeah, I know, but it's literally all anybody talks to me about. I'm seeing a shrink, and that's the first question she asks every time she sees me."

"You're seeing a shrink?"

"Yeah… I sort of almost jumped off a balcony when I heard about her--”

“What the fuck?”

“It's no big deal; I know that that was stupid." Ville said, rushing through the words.

“You jumped off a building?”

“Almost.” Ville corrected. “I almost jumped. I may have overreacted to the news of what happened. I’m fine. I won’t be doing that again… Can we change the topic?”

"Alright, well let's talk about something else then. I mean, what, uh, what are you doing nowadays?”

“Y’know, just moping about, I s’pose. Not much else. I guess, I’ve been writing songs, but that’s always the case, so… you know, I don’t think it’s of much interest.”

“Does that mean I can expect to see another of your albums hit the shelves soon?"

"Slow down, Bammy! We just released one!" Ville exclaimed with a genuine laugh.

"Yeah, but that was months ago. I think you're due for the next." Bam joked.

"Ah, well, we'll see. I suppose you're going to have to fill the void with your own music."

"That Fuckface Unstoppable shit? Oh man, people are just eating that up."

"I've noticed."

"I don't think people realize that I'm just joking around with this shit. Like, they've seen me doing dumb shit for years...did they really expect me to like be making a dubstep slash rap album? How do people not realize that I'm just fucking around?"

"It just goes to show you how corrupt and twisted the music industry is, doesn't it?"

"Honestly. It reflects on society too, when people are willing to listen to pure noise that has no method or meaning to the madness."

"Yeah, it's crazy. What about your new wife? How is she?"

"Nikki's good. The wedding was great, but it was missing you."

"Ah, I'm sorry." Ville said regretfully.

"It's fine, I mean, I understand. You were on tour, so I can't be too upset."

"Thanks for understanding, Bammy."

"I'm just saying... maybe you should have made Iceland one of your tour stops." Bam teased.

"I doubt anyone there would have heard of us. When we were doing our US leg of the tour, there were a few cities where we were getting booed and yelled at. It was just nonsense; not the best feeling, you know. I wouldn't want to live through that again in the freezing temperatures of Iceland."

"Yeah, but I'm sure there were a few fans in the crowd that were there to see you and you only. That oughta count."

"Yeah..." Ville trailed off unsurely, not quite believing his own answers. At the end of the day, the negative feedback from the crowd is still upsetting no matter how many Himsters were in the midst. Then again, there were other cities in the States where the HIM fans really stood out by screaming loud in excitement or singing the lyrics along with him. "You got any tour stories?"

"I mean, it's all been pretty crazy, to be honest."

"That's expected. Where are you now?"

"San Francisco."

"Ah, I see. Well, stay safe."

"You too. Stay away from balconies. What are you doing these days, then? No tour, no new music."

“Keeping to myself, mostly. Like I said, I’m seeing a shrink to help me remember, but other than that, I’m home.”

“Help you remember what?”

“I... I was in the car with her during the accident. When I woke up in the hospital, I couldn’t remember what had happened. I was so clueless; I didn’t know where I was or anything. It’s like I blacked out for two days, so the therapist is trying to help me remember at least what happened that night.”

“By doing what exactly?” Bam was very skeptical.

“Uh, I mean, talking, mostly. I kind of just talk about Ave hoping it will trigger something.”

“Look, no offense, but I think you’d have better luck with a psychic or medium or some bullshit. Save your money... a shrink isn’t going to do anything.”

Ville tried to be understanding; Bam was just trying to look out for a friend. His voice broke in despair as he tried to reply.

“B-am, I’m - I’m desperate. I can’t remember the last thing I said to her. I need to figure it out. It’s going to haunt me forever if I don’t.”

Bam sighed. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, so I’m not trying to downplay it by any means. All I’m saying is, be cautious. Half the time, these things are just scams to swindle money from you. They’re worthless. I hope you have some luck and I want the best for you, but...”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but Ville was able to infer what he was likely to have said: but don’t get your hopes up.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay. If you ever need anything, just hit me up."

“Definitely. I’ll call you.”

“Okay, bye.”

"Bye."

He set the phone down. Ville knew Bam was right. If someone had approached him a few months ago about therapy, Ville would have been skeptical as well, writing it off to be some delusional ritual. He had never been one to believe in therapy or mediums or anything of the sort.

Then again, Ville had never been as crippled as he was now.

Avery had been the same way, but for different reasons: she didn’t like to ask for help. She never turned to outside sources when she was upset or hurt; being a mitigator, she chose to solve her problems herself without hinting to others what she was going through. She bottled everything up until a certain point when either she was able to resolve the issues or something would send her over the edge, causing her to lash out about all those things that upset her. Ville released his emotions and his pain through music, the same way he had been doing as of late, but it wasn’t enough.

The therapy didn’t feel like it was helping, but it wasn’t until the point Bam expressed his skepticism that Ville realized this. He had never been fully committed to it and was careful about the details he divulged. Now, his initial qualms about seeing Dr. Ashbury seemed even more valid.

Ville returned to the dining table and continued to eat. He chewed his food slowly as though every bite pained him. Looking across the table, he saw the empty chair where Avery would usually be sitting. Over dinner, she’d first ask how Ville was regardless of how long it had been since they’d seen each other, which could be anywhere from a few hours to weeks at a time. Avery would always ask about him and what he’d done that day. He’d recount what had happened with the record company or at an interview; the stories got boring and repetitive for him, but she’d always look so entranced by his words. It didn’t matter that she’d just gotten off a 15-hour work day and was completely exhausted; her eyes still lit up to his stories the same way they had the first time the couple had met all those years ago. For her, it was always new, always exciting.

Then, he’d ask about her and how her day had been. She’d dismiss it as having been prosaic in comparison to his day, to which he’d insist she tell him. Avery would sigh and narrate her day’s events from depositions to trials. After hearing her speak for so many years, Ville had picked up the courtroom lingo so her tale was no longer bogged down by his clarifications. Now he could just focus on her speak with that commanding voice of hers that he loved so much.

“Damn, I miss you, darling.” he whispered to himself.

He swirled the food around on his plate since he didn’t feel like eating anymore. He stood up, leaving the dishes on the table with most of the food still left. Ville went to the bedroom to change into something appropriate for the November weather. He wanted to go see her. Ville hadn’t been to her grave after she was buried because he didn’t want to imagine her being in such a cold place. The image of Avery in her casket was carved into his brain, and it was enough to traumatize him; he had associated the gravesite with having a similar effect, but it didn’t matter anymore. He just wanted to see her.

Ville’s hair was quite overgrown; he had cut it before leaving for tour months ago, but it was now at his shoulders. He pulled it back into a low ponytail and covered it with a black beanie. He put on a thermal underneath his shirt and pulled on a black peacoat. He didn’t give his appearance a second glance in the mirror, although it was in his best interest to do so. He was a wreck, and he could have used a few minutes to tame the beast that is his hair lest he look like a homeless man on the street begging for change. Alas, he simply gathered his keys and wallet before he went downstairs. Once on the streets, Ville shivered in the frigid New York air. Although it wasn’t snowing, there was a biting wind blowing in his face, and he pulled the coat tighter around his bony frame.

Ville started walking in the direction of the cemetery, slipping his hands into his pockets. It wasn’t far walk and he lit a smoke to warm his body. On the way, he picked up a bouquet of pastel pink tulips. He got them for Avery spontaneously when he was away on tour as a sweet reminder of his love. She’d smile and bite her bottom lip from shyness; he knew that much. It used to be a gesture for when he was away to ensure that no matter the distance, he would always be in her heart; now he was the one who needed the reassurance that she was always there. No matter what, the memories they’d made together would always be played back for him to keep her alive in his heart.

When he got to the cemetery, it took a few moments to figure out where her grave was. It was a large plot of land with several hundred graves, and Ville hadn’t taken care to note where Avery’s was on the day she was buried. His mind was preoccupied. Now, he walked down the aisles searching for some familiar sign and waiting to spot her name on the headstone. After pacing through several aisles, Ville stopped short when he saw her tombstone. His jaw tightened and his feet were planted in the soil. Fuck, was he actually here? The sight of her name on the granite made his stomach turn. It was quite a disturbing thought and despite the time that had passed since the last time he stood here, the feeling was just as strong as it had been the day she was buried.

He ran his hand on the back of his neck, unsure of what exactly he aimed to do now that he was here. There was no cigarette in his hand, and he awkwardly crinkled the plastic that was wrapped around the bouquet of flowers. Ville heaved a sigh, and he felt his legs give out as he fell to his knees in front of gravestone. After taking off his glove, Ville ran his fingers over the lettering engraved into the granite. A shiver ran down his spine at the touch of the stone.

“Hey there, Ave.” he whispered, letting his hand slip off the tombstone gently.

He repositioned himself so that he was sitting cross-legged. Ville ran his eyes over the inscription: Here lies Avery Louise Valo, beloved daughter and wife. It had been kept simple and to the point. He timorously reached out his hand, yearning for the touch of her flesh on his skin. He lusted for their naked bodies to be intertwined between the sheets; they were one.

“I’ve been miserable without you, love. I think you took my soul with you when you left this Earth, and I don’t know what to do without you here next to me.” he spoke. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. It’s like someone wanted to torture me by giving me the person I’d love most and then sweeping her away from me. What a twisted game, indeed.”

His eyes were low, almost like he was looking through the six feet of dirt that separated them and right into her eyes. Sitting here in front of her grave tugged at his heartstrings, and Ville felt the emptiness in his chest stronger than ever before. His heart ached to be with her again.

“I brought you flowers.” he said with a small smile and set them in front of the tombstone. “Tulips, just the ones you like.”

He paused waiting for a response that would never come.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore, A-Ave.” his voice cracked. “I’ve been writing a lot of music, but what else is new, right?”

He tried making a joke. He wanted so badly to believe that she could hear what he said and appear before him to provide some solace. Ville wanted to see her and to touch her; he wanted to envelop her in his strong arms and hold her close, preventing her from ever being whisked away from his life. He wanted to see her smile because that alone could clear his worries and fears. That’s all he wanted right now. Fuck, that’s all he needed right now.

It just wasn’t fair. It would never be fair, and he would never understand why this happened. Regardless of the answers to his questions and to his confusion about the events of the night of the accident, nothing would change the fact that he was here and she wasn’t. That felt so wrong. It felt like it defied the laws of the universe; it was like light without darkness, yin without yang, love without enmity. It was inconceivable. How could one exist without the other?

“What am I supposed to do without you? What-What am I supposed to do?” he pleaded.

Ville sat and waited. The wind whipped around him, and he wiped away a few tears. It was of no use. There was nobody around him to hear his desperation, certainly not Avery. Ville looked like a madman to be begging at the ground to provide him with an answer. With every passing day, his heart grew weaker. Everyday, his eyes grew dimmer. Everyday, he became feebler.

There was no one to hear his cries.