CHAPTER TWO

THE KÜBLER-ROSS MODEL or the five stages of grief hypothesizes that a person who has just experienced a loss of a loved one will go through a range of emotions that vaguely fall under five categories: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. These stages don't have a specific order, leaving those going through the cycle of grief to decide what stage they are on.

What do humans do when they are faced with a loss?

They deny it.

Humans are a flawed species.

Perhaps that is why they forget that grief looks different on everyone. So what gives them the right to label others as 'heartless' just because they didn't cry as much as the other person? That they didn't pray as hard as the person in front of them?

What happens when a person passes away and people are more hell-bent on accusing others of being less compassionate than the other?

Anger poisons their minds.

Not everyone will cry when someone passes away. Not everyone will try to bargain for the loss of their spouses. Not everyone will accept the death of a loved one. In the end, what matters is that for a moment people grieved. No matter if they cried a river or not at all, what matters is that they have accepted the death of a loved one.

Acceptance is what will make you or break you.

Many psychologists will say that it's better to accept than to forget, in the long run accepting will benefit you. There are moments some people might have thought they forgot, but it will just be waiting in the back of their mind. Waiting for the right time to pounce. Waiting for the weakest moment. And those memories will keep haunting them the longer they stay in denial.

They will find themselves awake at three in the morning thinking about how beautiful and silky their lover's hair was when they ran their hands through it. Or how their lover's body was the missing piece to their jigsaw puzzle. And they will remember at that moment how much they loved each other...and how their lover left so easily, leaving nothing but memories that turn dreams to nightmares in a blink of an eye.

What will they do to get their lover back?

What can they do, when they have refused to accept the loss of a loved one for so long that it has started to intoxicate their veins and slowly taken over their mind so that they could only think of one name. One aroma. One person.

What happens when they cannot accept what has gone?

They will bargain.

'Take me and bring her back!'

'I'll do anything just give me some time with him, please God!'

There will come a day when they will find themselves so happy with the world and with everything around them. And then, a black shadow will envelop them. The shadow will have the voice of the lover they had lost. The smell of the bed sheets they had shared with one another, entrancing the prisoner until they are bonded in the ropes that refused to let them even breathe. Then, slowly, slowly, slowly, they will begin to give up. How on earth can they even let themselves be happy when the person that they had loved with all their heart had perished?

What happens to humans when they don't allow themselves to be happy?

Depression starts to eat away at their soul until there is nothing but a hollow shell in place of the person they used to be.

It may take a week, a month, a year, or ten, but there will come a day when trips to the cemetery will become less frequent. The ropes will finally become loose enough to let them breathe in the fresh air of hope. The smell of their lovers will fade, and the voice that had entranced them into a deathlike slumber will silence itself. Then they will realize that to grieve is to be human. And they will stop apologizing for not saying 'I love you' enough. At that moment they will realize, that the cycle is over. They will be able to break the chains that they had assumed were holding them down. When in reality they were the ones holding themselves down.

What happens when someone finally realizes that the world is still a beautiful place? That they didn't lose their lover because the love the two had shared would be in their hearts forever?

They accept it.

+ + +

There are five stages of grief and Tyler Meyers can't get past the first stage. The same thought runs past his head every morning he wakes up for school—Venus Wilson. Every morning he would pick up Venus for school because she hated being alone. A fact only he knew. He wondered how lonely she was in the morgue without him. Did she feel weird having all these doctors poking and prodding her body to see how she had managed to die? How could she leave him? Why did she leave him?

"Why Venus Wilson? Why, why, why?" Tyler subconsciously hissed over and over again, until his tone grew louder and louder to the point where his vocal cords burned.

"—Meyers, do you need to step out in the hall?" The teacher turned towards the back of the room where Tyler stood, his chair on the floor.

The teacher's nostrils flared while staring at Tyler. What a nuisance, was probably what the teacher was thinking.

"Yes, Sir," Tyler breathed out, his throat burned as he spoke.

A snicker echoed in the room and he looked around at everyone who stared at him as if he were a lunatic, besides one girl. She only looked at him with worrisome eyes. Lily Tran. Even looking at Lily made his stomach twist. Even after what he had done with her she still cared for him. He didn't break eye contact with her until she reluctantly looked back to the whiteboard where Mr. Leon continued to scribble down a math equation for the class to solve.

"You and me forever, right?"

Her voice rang clear in his head.

"You and me forever, Lily."

     All Tyler knew at this moment was that he needed air, and this room was lacking that very thing. So he picked up his phone and student ID and bolted out of the door. Tyler could hear the snickers of his classmates as he shut the door behind him. He wondered how long they had been waiting to laugh at him. Waiting to spread secrets about the 'Heartbroken Romeo' of Centennial Secondary School. Tyler had managed to stumble into someone. He looked up and sighed in relief, before sending a tight-lipped smile at one of his teammates who was evidently skipping. He had a short blonde wrapped around his arm who looked up at him as if he was the reincarnation of Jesus Christ.

"Everyone loves Dominic Bilyk. Be more like him Tyler, sometimes you can be so embarrassing!"

Tyler wondered if Venus had ever looked at him like that.

Probably not.

Venus didn't believe in love, and Tyler loved nothing more than being in love. Perhaps that was why he had left Kate for Venus; she was a challenge. A damsel in distress. But what Tyler had never accounted for was the fact that he would turn into the monstrous villain trying to save Venus from the black hole that sucked her in.

Tyler hated love now.

He hated himself now. All his cockiness was exchanged for anxiety and self-confidence issues, the second Principal Foster had announced the death of his lover. Tyler remembered being rude to anything that had a pulse just for the hell of it... Now, look at him. High school was his kingdom once upon a time ago. Now it was a dungeon, that was filled with memories of Venus Wilson — his capturer.

How cruel was this world?

How ironic was it the day that Tyler had decided to tell Venus Wilson he loved her—after constant fights—would be the day he would find out that she had taken her last breaths the night before? How messed up was this world for letting his last words towards Venus Wilson be 'I hate you'? He hadn't even told her he loved her and she just left.

     Tyler couldn't even breathe properly knowing that this Friday was the last time he would see Venus Wilson before she would be buried six feet under. He let out a soft sob, staring at the trophies that were encased in a little glass box. His name was printed on more than half of them. Centennial High School only had one good sports team and that was their hockey team.

"I'm your lucky charm! Whenever I come to your games, you always score the winning goal!"

Venus had once said to him.

He still remembered that comment. Back then he was still dating Kate and was forced to brush off her comment because Kate had let out a loud scoff.

Kate didn't even know what had happened the night before the game when Venus had kissed Tyler for the first time. She didn't even know the type of feelings Venus had for him. She didn't know that he reciprocated those feelings.

Tyler's finger instinctively rose to trace his lips, as he watched himself in the reflection. He couldn't recognize the boy that looked back at him. That wasn't Tyler Meyers, captain of the best hockey team in a 50 mile radius. This was a nobody whose cards of life were dealt by the devil, himself.

"Venus Wilson," he whispered, his voice hoarse and dry after long periods of silence.

"—is dead."

Tyler jerked his head to the right to find Lily standing near the trash can, that was as black as the saucers under his eyes. He couldn't even look into Lily's eyes anymore. He didn't want to, it only reminded him of all the horrible things he had done to her, to Venus, and to himself.

"Go away, Tran." Tyler hissed, as he turned back to the trophy case.

Once he had realized she wasn't going anywhere, he started walking down the hall. Tyler hoped that Lily wouldn't pester him more and return back to math class, but the sounds of boots clinking against the floor indicated the opposite. Breathe in. Don't get mad. Breath out. It's going to be okay. Breathe in. Don't get mad. Breathe out. It's going to be ok—

"Tyler!" Lily pulled at the green parka he had adorned, as a feeble attempt to stop him from entering the men's washroom. "You can't grieve like this!" Despite being a head smaller than Tyler, she had managed to pin him against the wall right beside the bulletin board.

Tyler's eyes widened mirroring Lily's wild ones. The only difference was that Tyler's eyes were bloodshot and permanently glossed over with tears that refused to fall over. While Lily's were empty, with no emotion whatsoever besides worry for him.

Did she even care that Venus had died a week ago?

"Grieving?" Tyler let out an angry chuckle. "What would you know about grieving, Tran?!" He pushed her away and walked into the men's washroom only for her to follow him.

A couple of freshmen ran out, curse words rolled off their tongues fluently the second they saw a girl follow Tyler into the washroom. Lily stood behind Tyler, who was engrossed in the art of washing hands.

"You're in denial, Tyler." She whispered, making Tyler scrub his hands harder under the water. "There are five stages of grief—"

"I don't need a fucking psychology lesson, Tran," Tyler pushed passed her to grab the paper towels. "I'm perfectly fine! Venus is fine! Everything is fine!"

Out came another sophomore from one of the stalls, who didn't even bother to wash his hands. Tyler knew that sophomore. He was the one Tyler had thrown his milk all over during lunch because he wouldn't stop staring at Venus' chest. Lily just stared at him, as he paced the washroom, before settling on leaning against the wall across from her. He didn't look at her, he couldn't.

"Tyler, Venus is dead..." Lily gulped, taking small steps towards the little ball of anger and sadness, that was the boy she had grown to love.

"No," he whispered, shutting his eyes.

He didn't want to cry right now. He didn't want to be reminded of Venus. He didn't want to feel anything anymore. Life would be so much easier for him if he never felt again.

"Tyler," Lily repeated, drawing out the syllables in his name. She jumped back when Tyler snapped his head up and sent her the ugliest stare she had ever received. It spoke volumes.

He blamed her. That was what that stare meant. He blamed her for what had happened. He blamed himself. No words Tyler could utter as of now would hurt Lily more than that stare.

"You're fucking telling me that the girl I love is dead?" He bobbed his head as if he were swallowing the truth. "—what is wrong with you?"

"What?" Lily breathed out. It was her turn to step back. He loved her. "You don't love her." She stated firmly, once she had reached a safe distance away from him. Yet, they were still so close to each other.

Lily laughed at the irony in her mind.

"How the hell do you know what and what I don't feel?" Tyler stalked towards her. "You don't want me to love her! You don't even care that she died! You didn't cry, you didn't do anything! If there are five stages of grief, which one are you on?" He stood in the middle of the washroom.

Out of the corner of Lily's eyes, she watched Tyler's movements in the mirror. She was too afraid to look at him properly, sticking to the reflection instead. Truth be told she didn't know what stage she was at. What stage was she on? Was she happy that Venus was finally out of the picture? Was she really this heartless?

Venus laid on the ground, staring right at Lily. It was almost as if she was asking her to help her. But fear had struck her stiff.

"Oh my God!" Lily stammered out, her hand reaching out to check for her vital signs.

No pulse? Pulse? No pulse? Pulse?

"—Karma's a bitch, that was what you used to say, Venus?"

Lily's eyes widened at the sound of a gruff voice and she quickly slid under the bed pulling down the blanket to cover herself. She bit onto her hand trying not to cry aloud.

"Little Venus dug herself a grave, caught in her own web of lies with only enemies to bury her name..."

"—Say something!" He roared, a small shriek escaped past her lips at the sudden sound that cut through the silence. "I love her, Tran." He was taunting her, it was clear in his tone. He wanted to hurt her. Tyler wanted her to feel even a fraction of what he was going through at this moment.

"You don't cheat on the people you love, Tyler," Lily whispered so softly that if the tap was running, even the slightest of drops would have swallowed her words whole. She didn't wait to watch how Tyler would react, instead she bolted out the washroom and down the hall so she could break down away from Tyler.

He had done this to her.

He made her the way she was.

Lily couldn't believe that he was the same boy that would whisper sweet nothings into her ear, over the phone late at night. Even from here, Lily heard the banging coming from the washroom, making her bite her lip as hard as she possibly could. An iron-like substance burst from her lip; her hand rose to wipe away the small drops of blood. After a couple of minutes, silence blanketed the halls. Then it was broken by the sounds of boots hitting the ground.

Lily knew it was Tyler by the aroma of his cologne, and she reluctantly turned around to see what the damage was. Tyler's left hand was bleeding, and it looked like he had slipped and hit his head somewhere as well.

This wasn't her Tyler. Correction. Tyler was never hers, to begin with.

"You have a game tonight," she commented. Her voice was hoarse. Tyler didn't say anything, he stared at her and then turned back to walk to the nurse's office.

And just like that Lily Tran realized that nothing would ever be the same between Tyler and her again. Not until he had accepted that Venus Wilson was dead. Lily didn't know how or when she had gotten on board with this vicious cycle of life. But all she wanted to do was get off. She never thought Tyler losing Venus would mean her losing Tyler.

You could have helped! Venus' voice chimed, making Lily's throat tighten.

I couldn't have helped, it was too late, she was dead. Too late; dead. Too late; dead. Too late; dead.

What do humans do when they are faced with a loss?

They deny it.

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