Chapter 9

Seriously, nothing hits harder than when your emotions are all over the place, then suddenly everything just... stops. Justine was gone, she was resting, and I was still here. My blood was pumping, but this heavy, awful feeling crushed my heart - nothing could shake it. Sleep? Forget about it.

I felt like a ghost, wandering around because I’d done some seriously messed-up stuff, beyond anything you could imagine, and honestly, I thought there was way more to come. But deep down, I was a good person, I really was. I started out wanting to do good, to actually help people. Now?

Everything was ruined. Instead of feeling good about the past and looking forward, I was drowning in regret and guilt, which felt like being thrown into a living nightmare - words can't even describe it.

This messed-up headspace was killing me, maybe because I never fully bounced back from that first big shock. I couldn't stand being around people; any happiness or chill vibes were torture. Solitude? That was my only escape - a deep, dark, almost-dead kind of alone.

My dad noticed a big shift in my vibe and how I was acting. He tried to cheer me up, using what he thought was good logic from his clear conscience and guilt-free life. He wanted to give me strength and get me to shake off this dark cloud hanging over me.

"Do you even realize I’m hurting too, Victor?" he said. Tears welled up as he spoke. "No one loved your brother more than I did. He paused. "But shouldn’t we try to keep things together for those of us still here? It’s about not making things even worse with a huge display of sadness."

He continued, "Plus, it's your duty to yourself. Too much grief stops you from getting better, enjoying life, or even just being useful. Then you're no good to anyone." That advice? Totally didn't hit the mark for me.

I would’ve totally hidden my sadness and tried to comfort my friends if it wasn’t for this mix of regret, fear, and everything else I was feeling. All I could do was look at my dad with a look of total despair and try to disappear from his sight.

We moved into our place at Belrive around then. Honestly, it was a huge relief for me. Those gates locking down at ten o’clock and not being able to hang out on the lake after that had been seriously stressing me out living inside Geneva. I was finally free.

A lot of nights, after everyone else was asleep, I’d grab the boat and spend hours out on the water. Sometimes the wind would push me along with the sails up. Other times, I’d row out to the middle of the lake, just let the boat drift, and get lost in my own thoughts. It was often tempting, you know?

When everything around me was calm, and I was the only one feeling totally messed up in such a gorgeous, unreal scene - except maybe for a bat or those frogs croaking like crazy whenever I got close to the shore.

I’d think about just diving into the lake, letting the water swallow me and all my problems forever. But then I'd remember Elizabeth, my amazing, suffering Elizabeth, who I loved so much and who depended on me. I thought about my dad and my brother, too.

Could I just ditch them, leaving them vulnerable to that monster I’d unleashed? No way.

At those times, I’d just bawl my eyes out and wish things would just chill out in my head, so I could cheer everyone up and make them happy. But that wasn’t happening. Guilt totally crushed any hope I had.

I was the one who caused all this messed-up stuff, and I lived in constant fear that the monster I’d made would do something even worse. I had this weird feeling that it wasn't over and he's still gonna pull off some huge crime, something so big it’d almost erase everything that’s already happened.

As long as I had anything I cared about, there was always something to be scared of. Seriously, you can't even imagine how much I hated that thing. When I thought about him, I’s grit my teeth, my eyes would get all red, and I just wanted to end the life I'd given him so carelessly.

Thinking about his crimes and how evil he was, my hate and need for revenge just went wild. I’d have trekked to the top of the Andes, just to push him off the mountain. I wanted to see him again, so I could unload all my disgust on him and get revenge for William and Justine.

Our place was a total downer. My dad's health was really messed up by everything that happened. Elizabeth was super bummed out and down; she didnn't enjoy doing the stuff she used to, and everything felt wrong, like disrespecting the dead.

She thought endless sadness and tears were the only way to honor those who were destroyed. She wasn’t that happy girl who used to wander with me by the lake and dream about our future. The first of those heartbreaks that shake us from our dreams had hit her, and it dimmed her brightest smiles.

"When I think about Justine Moritz’s awful death," she said, "it totally changed how I see the world. Before, when I read about bad stuff or heard stories of injustice, it felt like something from a long time ago or just made-up stuff. It was distant, you know?"

Something my brain could understand, not just my imagination. But now, misery’s hit close to home, and people seem like monsters, all thirsty for each other's blood. But I know I'm probably being unfair.

Everyone thought poor Justine was guilty, and if she had done it, she’d have been the worst person ever. To kill her friend and benefactor’s son - a kid she’d cared for since he was born, someone she seemed to love like her own!

I couldn’t agree with killing anyone, but I definitely would’ve thought someone like that didn’t deserve to be around people. But she was innocent. I know she was innocent, I can feel it. You think so too, and that makes me even more sure.

Ugh, Victor, when lies can look so real, how can anyone ever be truly happy? I feel like I’m walking on the edge of a cliff, and tons of people are pushing me towards the drop. William and Justine were murdered, and the killer got away. He's out there, free, maybe even respected.

"But even if I had to die for the same things, I wouldn’t trade places with that person, not even for a second."

"I listened to that whole thing, and it was seriously rough. I felt like the real killer, even though I didn’t actually do it. Elizabeth saw how messed up I was and gently took my hand, saying, "My dearest friend, you gotta chill.

These events have hit me hard, believe me; but I’m not as wrecked as you are. There’s this look of despair, and sometimes even revenge, in your face that scares me. Dear Victor, ditch these dark feelings. Remember your friends - they’re all counting on you. Have we lost the ability to make you happy?

"Seriously, as long as we love each other, and we’re true to one another, right here in this peaceful, beautiful country - your home - we can have everything good. What could mess with our peace? Could her words - from someone I cherished more than anything - really chase away the demon in my heart?

As she spoke, I practically ran to her, like I was terrified that the destroyer would snatch her away right then. Friendship, the beauty of the world, even heaven itself - nothing could pull my soul out of this pain. Even love couldn't help. I was trapped in a cloud, and nothing could break through.

It was like a wounded deer, dragging itself to a hidden spot to stare at the arrow that hit it, and just dying - that was me.

Sometimes I could handle the super bummed-out feeling that just washed over me, but other times, the intense emotions swirling inside me pushed me to find some relief - you know, by working out and changing up my surroundings.

It was during one of those moments that I just bailed on home and headed towards the Alps, hoping the beauty and timelessness of those places would help me forget my problems, which felt so small compared to everything else. My travels took me to the valley of Chamounix.

I’d been there a bunch when I was a kid. Six years had gone by: I was a mess, but the place hadn't changed one bit - still wild and tough. I did the first part of the trip on horseback. Then I rented a mule, since it was more sure-footed and less likely to get hurt on these crazy roads.

The weather was awesome - it was mid-August, almost two months after Justine died, which was when my real sadness started. The weight on my soul felt a little lighter as I went deeper into the Arve ravine.

The huge mountains and cliffs all around me, the river roaring over the rocks, and the waterfalls crashing everywhere showed a power as strong as anything you could imagine - and I stopped being afraid or bowing down to anything less powerful than the force that created and ruled everything, especially here where it was on full display.

Still, as I climbed higher, the valley got even more amazing and wild. Crumbling castles clinging to the cliffs of pine-covered mountains, the fast-flowing Arve, and little cottages popping out from the trees made for a really beautiful scene.

But it was even better because of the massive Alps towering above it all, looking like they belonged to another planet, the homes of some other kind of beings.

I passed the Pélissier bridge, and the ravine the river made opened up. I started climbing the mountain overlooking it. Not long after, I was in the valley of Chamounix. This valley was seriously amazing and grand, but not as pretty or charming as the Servox valley I’d just come through.

Towering, snow-covered mountains were right there, but there weren’t any ruined castles or fields. Huge glaciers came right up to the road. I heard the thunderous roar of an avalanche and saw the smoke trail it left behind.

Mont Blanc, the ultimate and incredible Mont Blanc, rose above the surrounding peaks, and its massive dome looked down on the valley. A totally random, feel-good vibe hit me a lot on this trip.

A turn in the road, or seeing something new I recognized, would remind me of when I was a kid and bring back that carefree feeling. Even the wind sounded comforting, like Mom Nature was telling me not to cry anymore.

But then that good feeling would fade - I’d be chained to my sadness again, stuck in a spiral of thinking. So I’d push my horse harder, trying to forget everything - the world, my worries, and especially myself.

Or, like, in a really desperate move, I’d hop off and just lie on the grass, totally crushed by horror and despair. Finally, I made it to the village of Chamounix. I was completely wiped out from the crazy exhaustion, both physically and mentally.

I stood at the window for a bit, watching the pale lightning flashing above Mont Blanc and listening to the Arve River rushing by. Those calming sounds were like a lullaby, soothing my overloaded senses.

When I laid my head on the pillow, sleep just crept over me - I felt it coming and was so thankful for the peace it brought.