The frozen lake cracked beneath his feet.


“MOVE MICHAEL, PLEASE!” Victoria bawled, stammering over her words from choking on tears. 


He was as frozen as the ice on which he remained silent and fragile. Despite his incapability to speak at that moment, the screams for help that protruded from his eyes were nothing if deafening. The cold, erratic breaths and the gentle whines from the wind were all that could be heard that evening. That, and the painful multitude of regretful thoughts spinning around in their aching minds.


“I will help you out of this, Michael, as I did before. Don't you remember? What did I tell your poor excuse of a Father last weekend? I told him you didn't need his…That awful proposition he gave you was a mirage that he wanted you to believe in. All of it was fake, but I'm not. I'm real, and I'm here,” Victoria exclaimed, desperately. This was to no avail. 


Victoria struck her palm against her head repeatedly, almost as if she wanted to bat an idea out of it. She had been contemplating getting back onto the ice to pull him off, and when no other ideas circulated, she'd edged herself along the rail.


“If you cannot come to me, then I'll come to you. Hold still, my darling.”


Upon hearing this, however, his demeanour abruptly changed. 


“Don't! Don't do that! Don't take it!” Michael instructed repeatedly. 


His tone seemed dispirited to Victoria and almost sounded malicious. She took her eyes off of the rail and looked at him once again. His position was that of a frightened deer in beaming headlights, arched back and stiff. The strange shift in his attitude almost caused her to stumble backwards.


“Don't take what?” Victoria questioned, but no response met her.


She asked again, and he didn't return an answer. Victoria didn't want to push his broken mind but could not and would not, in a million years, leave him trapped in that head of his. She didn't fully understand what he was feeling, though she understood enough to know he needed her to stay. Even if he wouldn't admit that.


What felt like an eternity had passed, and neither one of them made a move. Her eyes had locked onto his, but he couldn't meet her gaze. His eyes had darted ever so slightly away from her face and appeared to be absent. That type of ‘a thousand-yard stare’ you would see in a returning soldier. What broke the loud silence was the sudden sound of another crack.


Victoria continued to amble towards Michael, though every time she came remotely close, he edged himself further away from her. She could no longer hold her patience with him but dared not to yell again in case it were to startle him and cause him to move. Hoping to bring him out of his comatose state, she brought him the reality he'd become desensitised to.


“Do you want to die, Michael?” Victoria interrogated. 


“No,” Michael responded almost immediately after her question. 


The pace of which he replied unsettled Victoria, but she didn't draw attention to that aspect. She was half relieved about him listening to her and opening up, even if he was suppressing his truths.


“Then you need to come off of the ice now!”


“I don’t,” Michael responded, again in the same desolate tone.


“If you don’t want to die tonight, you need to come off of the ICE! If you don’t, I will ensure that you- Michael STOP EDGING BACKWARDS! I’M COMING TO GET YOU!” Victoria insisted as her pace grew faster.


“I don’t,” Michael repeated. 


This familiar yet distant tone sent graphic thoughts all throughout Victoria's mind. Thoughts that communicated in dark experiences from the past. She tried to circumvent them but quickly surrendered, given the state Michael was in. She couldn't and would not bring herself to give up. She had someone's life in her hands. Someone who she loved very much. Someone who she wanted to walk down the aisle towards and unveil everything she owned to.


“In sickness and in health. I accept it all, Michael. Nothing you say or do will ever drive me away.” Victoria's last effort to console him seemed to have finally broken through the concrete defence that encased Michael.


It's almost as if he had been brought round from a coma and had to regain his senses one by one. His eyes frantically darted around, reading to him the reality he had momentarily paused. His legs jolted to move but remained glued in place.


“I'm scared, Vicki. I'm not ready to go!” Michael proclaimed.


“Just stay still, Michael! I'm coming!” Victoria beamed as she quickened her pace. 


When Victoria had finally gotten to Michael, he grabbed onto her as if he were a child lost at sea clinging to a lifeguard. She brought her arm around his back and held him close to her, soothing him as she ushered them both off of the ice.


“It's okay! I'm here now!” Victoria whispered.


He couldn’t calm down. He would cling onto her one moment and then fight to get away from her the next. Eventually, his erratic behaviour proved too difficult to tame, and Victoria could no longer move him or herself. 


Victoria matched his delusional act, written in pure panic, gripping his arms to keep him still. With no ease in his distress, she grabbed Michael's face and shook him. She was greeted with a look that mimicked that of a statue painted with a very uncanny, insincere smile. He settled on the outskirts of his depression once more.


“I couldn't leave without you, Vicki!” Michael whispered as he jumped on the ice. 


“MICHAEL WHAT ARE YOU DOING. MICHAEL STOP! MICH-” Victoria didn't have any time to react. All she could do was helplessly scream and hold on to him. She didn't have as much time as he had to plan a way out.


“I LOVE YOU!” Michael screamed.


The ice gave way, immediately submerging them in the harsh water. Mass amounts of cold water gagged Victoria's screams, filling her lungs. Though the cold had sent her body in shock, while she could still see, she saw Michael floating absently beside her. 


He was calm now.