Her head has exploded, bits of her brain matter can even be seen in the kitchen despite the fact she blew her head off near the window. The window is cracked, bits of her hair glisten on shards of broken glass. Her face misshapen like a deflated pumpkin.

“The police are coming,” Charles states at the door frame. Hesitant to walk into the apartment. She didn’t even lock the door behind her when she walked in after we spoke. I wonder if she is free now. I wonder if this was better than Lukas dying. Staring at her flattened face, bones jutting out, lower jaw dangling from what was her chin.

Is she free now? A part of me feels frustrated. Frustrated, that's a new one.

“Are you okay?” Charles asks me.

I know how I am supposed to answer when you see something like this. I am supposed to be like Charles. Scared. Hesitant. Should I be concerned that I cannot muster fear?

“I think I am fine,” I tell him.

“It’s sad, isn’t it,” Charles says, “Do you think she is happy now?”

How could she be? Do dead people feel anything? How could Elaine’s love for Lukas mean more than her own liberation? I don’t understand why she would love someone like Lukas, love him enough to kill herself? Why did she kill herself?

“Don’t know,” I tell him, “Do you? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Charles frowns sadly, “I know she must have been brave. To be in that much pain, and try to live as best as she could. I feel really bad for her.”

“You think she’s brave?” I ask.

“What about you?”

I think she’s ungrateful.

“I don’t understand why she would kill herself, after the person who loved her treated her so poorly. Do you think he broke her?”

Charles looks at me, he looks uncomfortable, “What would make you say something like that?”

“Mom and I heard them arguing almost every night. A lot of yelling, a lot of banging around, Elaine seemed sad even then. So, why would she kill herself?”

“Because she didn’t want him dead,” Charles tells me.

That seems illogical. If someone hurts you. And they won’t stop hurting you and there is no way to stop them. Then if they died you should be grateful. Happy. This entire situation frustrates me and makes me angry. How am I supposed to help people when they are ungrateful for the help they receive?

“Why would she want him alive?”

Charles scowls, “Can we get out of this apartment and can we drop the topic? It’s kind of creepy.”

“Sure,”

“Thank you Quinn,”

Creepy. Huh. Why is our society like this? Why don’t we question relationships like Elaine and Lukas? Is Charles supporting an abusive relationship for love? Lukas was better off dead.

Stepping out of their apartment, my Mom is rushing up the stairs, “Are you two okay?” she ask.

Charles looks uncomfortably behind him, he nervously looks at my Mom, “I am going home. I don’t feel well.”

“I am so sorry, hun,” Mom tells him, pushing back some of his copper wire hair out of his eyes, and kissing his forehead, “I worry for you the same way I worry for Quinn.”

“Thank you Ma’am,” Charles smiles.

“Of course,” she pulls him tightly in with a hug, warmly embracing him, “I want you to see me as a second Mom to rely on.”

He nods.

“Thank you, Ma’am,”

She let’s go, helping him to the stairs. Rubbing his back softly, when he is out of sight. She looks at me, “Were the police called?”

“They were called,”

“And they are coming?”

“Yes,”

She nods, “Well let’s get inside. I am sure they will have questions.”