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Some say that death is cruel. I disagree. Life is far crueler.
Those who die suffer and lose what could have been, but then they are freed to something better. Heaven, sleep, a new life, at the very least an end to pain. But to live is to truly suffer, to truly know pain and cruelty and injustice, to truly know loss.
Justin and I stood like armed guards on either side of the remnants of the Frost family. Frost had his arm around his quivering, wailing mother; Ryan had his face buried in her bosom like a child. Frost held a silver chain clasped between his fingers like a lifeline. I had noticed him wearing it before, but didn’t know what it was, had never had the courage to ask. Justin had a hand on Mrs. Frost’s shoulder and I tightly gripped Frost’s left hand while Liz stood to my left. Dr. Grey was watching from the opposite side of the wounded earth of the cemetery. Frost’s hand on mine tightened until my bones shifted in my fingers as we watched three urns being lowered into the ground.
Anything recognizable as human remains could not be recovered, not even Trina’s ballerina bracelet. The urns were filled with ash from the smoldering remains of the manor instead.
There were thousands of things wrong with the scene and I did not know how to rank them, if it were possible. The fact that these people were dead at all was horrific enough. The guilt from the Frost family, Justin, and I was like a living presence paying its regards to the deceased. The wounds the survivors bore, emotional and physical, were grotesque and agonizing.
Perhaps the worst thing was when I discovered the most awful scar I would ever know burned into Frost’s palm. It was a shadow of Trina’s ballerina charm and its chain seared into his flesh.
I did not watch the urns being lowered. I was staring at the headstones, made of smooth black obsidian with the names Katrina Frost, Madeline Frost, and Jerry Frost scarred into them in sharp white letters.
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That night, we went home to Frost’s apartment. I gave Liz my apartment key and asked her to bring me a few changes of clothes. Something told me I wasn’t going to be back there for a while.
No one spoke as we took turns changing into more comfortable clothes in the one bathroom, then choosing places to collapse on the living room furniture. Justin absent-mindedly picked through Frost’s fridge, throwing out countless items that had expired in the past three weeks. From what I could see, he was left with a jar of pickles, a few boxes of butter, a jar of garlic, and the condiments and salad dressings. Eventually, he threw a frozen pizza into the oven and busied himself eating the pickles straight out of the jar. I tried not to look at the remaining Frosts. Their faces were far too like reflections I had seen years ago for comfort. I could see their pain, knew how sickening it was because I had felt the same degree of horror before, and knew without a doubt that I’d brought it upon them.
When Frost, the last to change out of his black suit, emerged from the bathroom, his eyes immediately met mine. They were hollow and cold, as though drained of life. “Poe?” he whispered. “A word?”
I stood and gestured to Liz, who had recently arrived, to take my spot on the couch. She nodded silently and I slowly followed Frost to his bedroom. As I entered after him, I shut the door quietly. Watching him toss his good suit carelessly in the direction of his closet, the warm light brown walls and sunlight peeking around the curtains seemed like some kind of sick joke. I crossed my arms over my chest to ease the tearing sensation in my chest and stared at his back to me, the broad shoulders, the wild blond hair that glinted in the thin sunlight like ice. I realized sickly that I had never seen him wear black before that day, aside from his leather jacket, yet he had exchanged the black suit for jeans and a black sweater.
“It’s not your fault, Poe,” he whispered, his voice as ancient as misery itself. It was the first time he’d said more than two words to me at once in three weeks. I didn’t know if he had spoken more to anyone else. I didn’t want to know.
Slowly, I stepped towards him until I could rest my forehead between his shoulder blades and lay my palms on each shoulder. He sighed and bowed his head. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
“Do what?” I asked.
“Touch me when I know you don’t want to. You don’t have to pain yourself to try to comfort me, Poe.”
I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. My eyes and cheeks burned and I wondered if I was glad to be hiding behind him or if I wished he could see my face and know that I wanted to comfort him. I slid my hands up over his shoulders and gripped his muscles, holding him close to me. I stood up as high on my toes as I could, using him as support, and whispered against his neck, “I care about you.”
After a moment’s pause, I felt the warmth of his hand as he laid it over my fingers and let my head fall forward into his shoulder again, breathed in the scent of him, warm and gentle as cookie dough. I wondered if it was a cologne or residual from frequent baking with…. But I stopped the thought cold as my eyes burned with unshed tears again.
“Please…” Frost said, “Please don’t blame yourself. You could never have known that…you could never have expected…” He shuddered and sighed mournfully. “This doesn’t have to change anything between you and me.”
I swallowed hard and whispered, “Yes it does. Being with me has destroyed your family, Frost, in more ways than one. Your sisters and your dad are dead. Your family’s home is nothing but ash. Your mom and Ryan will never be the same, may never even recover.” I didn’t tell him, but in my head I planned how long I would stay here to make sure they could be trusted with their own lives. When they had been decimated or healed enough, I would take the first Amtrack out of Baltimore. Something told me I wouldn’t be living here very long, though.
Frost carefully extricated himself enough to turn and face me, his eyes of molten ice agonized. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered in a voice too broken and pleading to be bearable. Tears immediately came to my eyes and I felt sick to my stomach. I tried to step back from him in horror, but he quickly grabbed my elbows and restrained me, his eyes begging me, burning in pain. “Please. Stay with me. Please…”
“Frost, I don’t understand…”
“You’re planning to leave me as soon as you think it’s safe so that you can’t hurt me. I know you, Poe.” His hands on my arms were shaking and in shock I realized that this man, who I had thought of as a rock, broken but immortal, was more fragile now than I was. “Stay with me,” he whispered. “Please, don’t make me get on my knees and beg. The scarring is still raw, but I’ll do it.”
My eyebrows drew together is concern and pain. “Frost…I can’t…”
Immediately, he shifted to drop to his knees. I tried to stop him, only succeeding in bringing myself to my knees with him. The pain was immediate and enough to make me cry out quietly. It was like acid burning in my knees. Frost winced, but the grimace only remained for a moment before he whispered, “Please. You’re all I have left. Mom and Ryan…they’re not alive anymore. Not really. And it won’t be long before they’re really dead. We both know that.”
“You’ll still have Justin…”
“Justin will never be able to heal me, Poe. We’ll always be brothers, but I can’t lose you. I can’t.” The pain was in every part of him, in his white-knuckles clenching my arms as if he thought I would run to the nearest airport right then, in the set of his jaw, in his burning, smoldering eyes, in his desperate, gentle mouth….
Finally, I laid my hands on his shoulders, my gaze locked with his, and answered, “Frost, I can’t promise you that I’ll be whole or that I’ll survive much longer. This is only the first in a long series of tragedies and already the grief and guilt could kill me.” Tears rose in my eyes and spilled silently onto my sunken cheeks. “It doesn’t matter how many times you and Liz and Justin tell me it wasn’t my fault. I know it was and nothing will ever change that. I will always know that my existence murdered your family.”
“I will never hold this curse against you. I swear that to you,” he said firmly, drawing me to him and gathering me into his arms. The warmth and security of his arms around me, his fingers pressed against my back, was so sweet and I was so hungry for it that for just a moment, I believed he would be able to keep that promise.
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