Silent Hill was the name of the town where I met my wife. I went there for vacation when I was twelve and broke a large variety of laws. Somehow, though, I didn't get arrested. I suppose I was just too sneaky for the po-po.

Anyhow, that is where I met my wife, Mary. I sold her some drugs. I thought she was very pretty.

I returned to that town a few years later and saw her again. Wonderfully, she had grown from that little girl that I had sold drugs to into a well-endowed young woman. I came up to her and asked her if she remembered me; I sold her cocaine one fine law-breaking day a few years ago, I said. She beamed at me and nodded, the glint of remembrance clear in her eye. "I've been waiting for you…James," she whispered. Apparently, she had fallen in love with me or something. She gave me a hug. I was confused, but, you know, okay, whatever. I hugged her back. She asked me if I wanted to do something sometime. I said sure.

At that point in time, I was only to be staying in Silent Hill for a week, so we didn't have very many days together, so we hung out practically every day. Of course, what else would I do? I sure wasn't going to be breaking any laws (wink, wink).

We did many wondrous things. We went to a diner and to a party. We went bowling. We made a little movie. It was exceedingly nice to spend time with her.

When I was there, that lovely June, the town of Silent Hill was so beautiful. It was always warm, but never too warm. At night, the crickets would come out and chirp melodiously, and there always seemed to be an almost photo-like quality to everything, everywhere, as if you were looking at a photograph and not real life. And the trees were always swaying, like they were dancing. It was the best week of my life.

On our last night together, Mary and I sat on a wooden bench by Taluca Lake, overlooking the serene water. The stars were out and glinting in the sky and all of space was reflected in those gentle, glorious waves. She was leaning against my shoulder and I had my arm around her. She kissed me.

"I love you, James," she said, gazing into my eyes with those beautiful, beautiful gray pools of grayness. "Let's get married."

What. She was, like, thirteen or something. "What," I said.

She glanced away, smiling childishly. "When I get older," she voiced dreamily.

I guess that was okay. You know, whatever. "Okay," I said, and we kept looking out over the water.

By the next morning, I was gone from that town of Silent Hill yet again. I stared out the car window the whole ride home. I was extremely befuddled about this whole ordeal. Why did I just agree to marry her? I mean, she was fantastic and I liked her, but shouldn't I at least sample more fish in the sea? It's like agreeing to only eat bananas the rest of your life. What about beef jerky? What about bacon? What about mashed potatoes? You would never taste them.

I closed my eyes and thought all the way. In the end, I guessed it was alright.

So we did get married. It was a very simple, traditional ceremony. She wore a white gown, I wore a tuxedo, there were bridesmaids, a best man, a wedding cake, white as a color, flowers, flowers, etc., etc., the whole shebang. It was a very quaint wedding, a very nice one. I was quite happy, but I couldn't help but wonder… why was I doing this? I liked her. I really did. But did I love her? I was unsure. But as soon as I tasted that marble cake and fondant, I forgot completely about my ordeal. And we had our first dance as a husband and wife.

For our honeymoon, we stayed at Lakeview Hotel, in Silent Hill. It overlooked Taluca Lake, where I had once gone fishing off the back of a giraffe, that day when I broke several laws in Silent Hill. There was a piano in the lobby that Mary played when no one was around. She loved to play the piano even though she wasn't very good at it. I never knew she liked to play the piano until then. It actually really bothered me, though. She really wasn't very good at piano at all. She was actually strenuously bad. It was a chore to listen to her, but she was my wife now. What else could I do but listen? So I listened. And we had a good time. As always.

Once, when she finished playing a certain song, she looked at me with a wistful look in her eye and said, "James, this will be our special place from now on, okay? It always will be."

And, of course, I smiled and said "Yes, of course it will be." Because I

was a husband now and what else could I do but agree?

We spent the rest of our days in my hometown. We never went back to Silent Hill together.

But, one day, Mary got sick. We didn't know how it happened, but all of a sudden she just started coughing and told me she felt really horrible. We went to see the doctor, and it turned out that she was very sick. She insisted that she not go to the hospital yet, though, that she would be fine, and I had no choice but to abide by her wishes. I did my best to take care of her. She was fine for a few days, but then she had trouble walking, and, eventually, was bedridden. I asked her if she wanted to go to the hospital now, it seemed really bad, and she said that, yes, she thought it was a good idea. So I drove her down to the hospital and left her in the car while I talked to the receptionist. They immediately came out with a stretcher and took her inside. I stayed for a while and they said they weren't sure if she was going to make it too long, there wasn't too much they could do, but I asked them to keep her alive for a while; they said that would be okay, that would be fine, we'll keep her in a bed, would you like to see her? And so I came to see her and she was crying and she said she ruined everything, she was so sorry, and I just held her and told her it would all be okay.