Love was something denied to me for so long. Love, I always believed, was such a stupid word. But still, I had always wanted it. I'd had my fair share of infatuations, but they were nothing but bleak and empty attempts at love. And the one time I finally fully comprehended what it was, it was taken away as quickly as it had come. I still don't understand how it happened. I've tried as hard as I could, and somehow the pieces still don't seem to fit.
One small tear found its escape through the corner of my eye, leaving a smudge of dark grey in its path. I felt the warm wetness slide cautiously down my cheek, and I for once allowed myself to cry.
I pulled my hood closer to my head, fending off the cold Helsinki air. If I tried hard enough, I could still faintly catch the scent of him preserved in the worn fabric. For just a moment I held the sleeve closer to my nose, trying hard not to breathe onto it. The scent of my breath would overpower his, and I wanted it long as possible.
Three lit candles circled the front of me, their orange flames playing delightfully with the winter breeze. If let out a light sigh, the closest flame would shudder violently from my breath's weight. I absently gazed at his tombstone, but no matter how much I stared, he wouldn't come back. His name etched deep in the stone mockingly stared back at me, immortalizing his deficiency.
Freezing wind nipped at my exposed nose, turning it a faint red as it worked on pulling my hair loose. I had long since tried keeping it tucked behind my ears. A light pain filled my belly, and I only wanted to cry more. I let a chilled hand with brightened fingertips rest softly over it, feeling the warmth it faintly emanated. I let out a small sigh, and closed my eyes tightly.
Every night I visited his grave. Whether it be out of fear his existence wasn't real or out of pain I'd never see him again, I didn't know. I just chose to wait the nights away sitting in front of his headstone and talking to him, or what I wanted to believe was him. I told him everything I would've if he were still alive. It had become so much of a habit, I'd panic if I hadn't spent the night in the cold cemetery.
Sometimes my eyelids would get heavy, and I'd press my forehead against the cold ground packed tightly over where his coffin lay, but sleep wouldn't come. I no longer slept; sleep was too close to death for my liking. How languid and unanimated a body looked while unconscious. The thought of such a thing frightened me, and I opened my eyes in trying to rid the image from my mind. I knew I had nothing to fear from death, but to think of my own body in such a lifeless state sickened me.
I hadn't spoken in several hours, the cold seizing its chance to numb my lips. The words I wanted to say hung on the tip of my tongue, eagerness urging them forward. I wanted to say it night after night, but fear held them back. I had to tell him tonight, I'd put it off for far too long.
I clenched my cold fingers tighter around my stomach as the wind kicked at my hair again, sticking it to a wet spot on my cheek. I sighed once again, and straightened my body away from the cold headstone I'd been leaning on.
"I'm going to tell you a story," My voice was soft as I spoke, the brittle air giving it a raspy tinge. The familiar fear that prevented me from continuing arose, and I bit my bottom lip to push it back down.
"There once lived a vampire," It was going to be more difficult than I'd hoped, I already knew, but I forced myself to keep going. "She lived in a castle, all alone. She spent years and years confining herself inside the cold stone walls, fear holding onto her tight, taking her hand like a child's..."
I paused, taking in a deep breath. The air I drew in cut through my lungs with its wintriness, the inside of my throat filled with frigidity. The crystalline tears spreading down my cheeks lost their heat, leaving streaks of cold. I let my mouth open again, letting words escape into the empty night air…
X
"Mirja, did you take your medicine?" I chose to stare out the window as my therapist drowned me with waves of empty words. I stopped listening after the fourth visit; this was now my fifteenth. I realized that either what she said could never help me, or I just didn't want the help.
I turned to look at her. "Yeah, I did," I replied uninterestedly, returning my gaze to the falling snow. I could feel her glare; the sharp heat of her stare hurt the side of my head. I heard the blood rushing heatedly through her temples, her disgruntled thoughts, mostly pertaining me, frantically race through her mind.
"You know lying about it won't get you anywhere, and procrastinating won't help, either." She replied, growing irritated with my lack of assiduousness. I glanced at her once more as she scribbled notes on her clipboard, paying me no heed. I stared at the aging lines on her face, the deep creases in her skin that mine would never obtain.
"I know, I know. And I did, I feel better than ever." I let what I hoped to be convincing words stumble from my lips. Her and I both knew I never took my medicine; I hated it. It did nothing for me anyways, except sometimes make me more exasperated.
I kicked my feet lightly, fumbling with the buttons on my coat. The carpet below me was the ugliest shade of yellow I'd ever seen, it looked almost brown. I let out a bored sigh just as the little timer sitting on her desk went off.
"Please, Mirjami, take your medication. I'll see you next week." She muttered, knowing I'd just ignore her, as she pushed her glasses up her nose. I gritted my teeth as I stood, I hated when people called me by my full name.
"Yeah, I will, don't worry about it." I spat out as I walked out the door. The hall was long and creaky as I walked down it, leading me to a waiting room where two others sat waiting and a secretary typing furiously at her desk.
I reached for the doorknob, my energy inflating now that I finally could move about freely. The metal knob was frigid, cooling my hot skin as I touched it. Pulling the stiff door open, the caustic Helsinki snow greeted me.
The cement steps were nearly sleeted with ice as I set my foot on them; the thin fabric of my sneakers leaking in cold air. I tried to tighten my long coat around me as I briskly walked down the street. I kept my head down from keeping the bitter wind from stinging my eyes.
Unable to see where I was going, I bumped into someone. The unexpected collision caused me to stumble backwards into the snowy sidewalk, freezing powdery snow falling on my face.
"Sorry, love." I heard the deep voice mumble as he reached out a hand sheathed in a black fingerless glove. Somewhat hesitant, I let my fingers slip in his palm, the leather soft as it stuck to my flesh.
"Again, I apologize," he said, watching as I dusted myself off. I had dirty snow clinging to my coat, turning into blotches of wet as it quickly melted from my body's warmth.
My perpetrator had jet-black hair, just barely reaching the top of his shoulders. He wore nothing but black; a band shirt sticking out of a leather jacket, his eyes rimmed by two black pieces of reflecting plastic. His legs were covered in dark jeans with various chains clinging into the oversized belt loops.
"Accidents happen," I shrugged as I finished wiping the snow off my pants. I had forgotten my gloves, so my fingertips had turned a pale red and stung from the cold. I imagined the tip of my nose matched the flattering colour, the red an excellent contrast to my milky-white skin.
"Well, thanks," I murmured, allowing a small wave before pulling my soaked shoes from the snow bank and began walking away. I didn't have to look behind me; I could feel his eyes still watching me hurry down the street. I had the urge to look at him once more before he disappeared into the streets of Helsinki, but I resisted and walked on.
The longer I walked, the harder the snow fell and the more ludicrous I felt trying to plow myself through the snow. My nearly all-black attire had been covered in a thin sheet of white snow, melting into the once-warm fabric and gaining a layer of fresh, powdery snow.
Once I made it up the snow-covered steps of the building, I rested against the door. The added weight of the freezing ice had exhausted me. After a moment, I built up the energy to open the door and head inside.
The stale warmth of the building instantly permeated me, making my hands sting in pain as it unfroze the blood in my veins. I kicked clumps of snow from my shoes as I headed towards the elevator. It was one of those old fashioned ones, black and creaky, rusted in spots that would never work again. It often broke, leaving me puzzled as to why no one bothered replacing it.
I pressed the elevators up button several times before I realized yet again it wasn't working. Hissing curses under my breath, I turned around and started walking up the three flights of stairs.
"Karri?" I called as I opened the door. By the time I had reached the top, I had lost all the breath in my lungs. I stepped into the dimly lit apartment expecting my roommate to be in there, sitting in darkness watching the television. No response came, and I slid the rest of my body through the small crack I'd made.
"Karri," I called again, my voice louder in hopes she'd hear. I switched the light on, hastily eradicating the darkness, enabling my eyesight to work. Once adjusted to the recently acquired light, I found there was a note taped to the usually bare refrigerator.
Karri was going to be late tonight, as she could be quite notorious for, so I'd be better off not waiting for her arrival. After skimming her scrawled handwriting, I crumpled the paper up and tossed it in the trash. The entire apartment was barely lit, but then again we both loved the darkness. I curled up on the couch not bothering to take off my coat, falling asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.