Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, what in the hell just happened, she's on the floor and there's blood coming out of her, oh my god, what do I do?
Valentine paced back and forth, spewing curses under his breath. Why would she just randomly fall to the floor? If this is what her people thought was funny, it definitely wasn't funny to him, not at all.

"Ah, I know! I have to check and see if she's breathing!" Valentine practically burst out loud. He kneeled down and stared at her until he saw her body heaving slightly. He exhaled and stood up again, stroking his beard in deep thought.

What the hell am I going to do…? Valentine didn't really know what exactly he was planning, but he grabbed a knife from the drawer and planned to poke Helena's skin with it, in order to scare her awake. It seemed like a pretty good idea to him. He always woke up when somebody scared him. He pulls up her shirt a little, and pokes her with the tip of the knife. She immediately sits up and screams. Valentine screams back and drops the knife onto the floor. He can hear a pounding of feet coming up the stairs. Another scream echoes throughout the building. Valentine feels a fist colliding with his face, and it doesn't feel that great.

"Mum! What are you doing?" Helena shouts. Joanne stares at Helena, sees the knife and the blood dripping from her daughter's nose and her mouth, and she slaps Valentine across the face. Valentine whimpers in pain and backs into a corner while Helena struggles to get up, her knees still weak from randomly passing out.

"Mum! Stop it! Valentine didn't do anything!" Helena grabs onto her mum and tries to pull her away from Valentine. Joanne rips her arm away from Helena and grabs Helena's shoulders roughly, looking extremely angry.

"Helena! How can you say he didn't do anything? Explain the knife! Explain the blood on your face! I bet he tried to knock you out and rape you!" Joanne shouts, tears streaming down her face. Helena didn't even notice the knife until now. She stared at Valentine, complete rage filling her mind at how stupid he could be sometimes.

"Mum, let me explain-"
Joanne slaps her daughter across the face and Helena stares at her in awe, shocked that her mother would ever do such a thing. Helena cries tears of rage and storms up to her room, slamming the door shut. Joanne stares at Valentine, eyes filled with scorn.
"Listen, you…I want you out of here right now. I don't care if you have nowhere to go, you don't deserve to be anywhere except for in hell!"
Valentine scrambles to get up and Joanne pushes him out of the door.
"Don't ever come back here. If I ever see your face again, I'll call the cops and you'll spend the rest of your sorry days in jail."
Valentine winces at the sudden slam of the door and he walks off towards the main road. It's cold outside, and he realizes he doesn't even have his jacket. He doesn't care though. Nothing seems important anymore.
I just lost the only person I love and I don't have anywhere to go. No warmth, no food, no other human beings. Why must I be so stupid sometimes?
Valentine hangs his head down and follows where the speeding monsters are going, since they all seem to be flocking somewhere. He doesn't care where he ends up anymore.
"I'd rather be dead…" Valentine mutters to himself as he feels cold tears streaming down his face. He falls to his knees and starts sobbing, regretting ever coming to Helena's world.


"I don't care, mum! You wouldn't listen to me and you forced my only friend away from me! I hate you! I don't want to see you ever again!"

Helena pushes her mother out of her room and slams the door shut, locking it tight. She ignores her mum's pounds at her door and the shouts of her name. Helena rips one of her old drawings off of her wall and tears it into pieces, throwing it onto the ground and stomping on it as hard as she can. She grabs whatever she can and throws it across the room in rage, even breaking one of her favorite CDs. She doesn't care though, until a few minutes later, and she regrets acting upon her feelings of hatred. Helena stares at herself in the mirror and looks at the dried blood that had run down her face and had pooled up on her chin. Helena suddenly smashes the mirror, and the face staring back at her cracks in half. Helena sees herself on the one side, and her Anti self laughing on the other. It's a wicked laugh that echoes in Helena's brain and won't leave her alone.

"Stop it!" Helena screams, and she claps her hands to her ears, closing her eyes and shaking her head. When she opens them up again, her anti self has faded from the mirror, and Helena hits herself in the temples as hard as she can, trying not to cry from the sudden pain.

"You stupid, stupid girl…stop imagining these stupid things…" Helena mutters to herself. She sees a piece of the mirror on the floor and picks it up, pricking her finger with it. She watches the blood slide down her finger, and presses the piece of mirror slightly to her wrist. She immediately tosses it away, shaking her head.
There's no way I could ever do…that… Helena thinks to herself. Helena scratches the blood off of her face, its strong scent filling the air. She collapses onto her bed and curls up as tightly as she can. She notices Valentine's coat hanging off of the edge of her bed, and she pulls it off, staring at it. She carefully wraps it around her body. Helena can smell faint traces of funnel cake, and she starts to cry softly, missing the masked man already. She wraps it tighter against herself, but hears the soft sound of crinkling paper. She pulls it off slowly and searches his pockets, pulling out a dead rose and a crumpled piece of paper. She unfolds it, and gasps. It's a love letter.

Dear Helena,
I've wanted to tell you
for a long time ever since you left this world that I've had these strange feelings. The only occur when I think about you, but I don't know what they are. I want to talk to you about them, but I don't know…I think I-
Helena struggles to read the rest, since it's covered in black ink, but there is a small legible bit at the bottom.
I've never felt this way about anything or anyone else. A part of me hopes you feel the same.
Your friend,
With love,
This isn't just a love letter…
Helena thought to herself.

"…it's a love letter to me." Helena says slowly, as if she's going to fall apart if she says it any louder. She stops breathing for just a second.
Nobody has ever said they loved me before besides my parents. I don't even know if I love him. Can I love anybody? What exactly is love? I…I don't know…
Thoughts bombard Helena's head, like a fleet of bullets.

"I want to love him back, but how? How do I love somebody? Is it just an expression? I…"
Helena shuts up and starts crying again. She hates being confused, and she hates not knowing the answer even worse. She wishes she could consult the Very Useful book, but-
She can. There's one page left.
Helena jumps out of the bed and ransacks her drawers until she finds it. It's a bit beat up, and she can barely read the cover anymore. Her thumb rests on the edge of the book and she carefully opens it up. She stares at the page, dumbfounded. Of course, it was so obvious.


Valentine stares through a restaurant window, the smell of food tainting his thoughts. He carefully opens the door, and hears a bell jingle. The shop is very busy, and it's filled with people. He stares at the food by the window, and he's verytempted. Instinctively, he tries to search his pockets, but he remembers leaving his coat at home. He's starving; it's been hours since he last ate. He can barely go thirty minutes without eating something small. His heart beats fast, and he slowly edges towards the window, making sure nobody is paying too much attention to him. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, hell, he shouldn't even be thinking it, but he's so desperate. Without thinking, he snatches a cake and runs out of the shop, running as fast as he can down the street.

"THIEF!" He hears footsteps thudding behind him, and he runs as fast as he can. He turns down an alley, trying to lose the men, when he suddenly rams into a big burly man. The cake smashes all over the man, and the man punches Valentine in the gut. Valentine's eyes go wide, and he tastes a bit of blood in his mouth as he collapses to the ground. He groans in pain and he hears hate filled voices around him.

"That's him! That's the man who stole one of my cakes," cries a woman. Valentine feels his hands being chained together and two men pick him up. They drag him to a roaring monster and shove him into the back of it. Valentine tries to struggle away, but they slam the door before he can escape.
"I'm getting' real sick of just arresting hoodlums, Jim. I want real action, not some deadbeat trying to steal a god damned cake…" one of them growls as they settle into the second seat. The driver gets in, laughing, and nods.

"I know what you mean Ed, but it can't be helped. We have a duty, to stop crime. No matter how big or small, it's our job bud."
Valentine feels himself passing out from the pain of getting punched in the stomach. Everything turns to blackness and the voices in the car fade.


When Valentine awakens again, he sees himself trapped behind bars. He grabs them and starts rattling them as fast as he can.

"Help! Somebody please! I'm trapped! Help," Valentine shouts as loud as he can. A fat man practically waddles up to the cell and slams a stick against Valentine's fingers, which causes him to shout in pain.

"You better knock it off boy, or next time I'll smack ya over the head until you bleed!"
The fat man walks away and Valentine slumps down onto the uncomfortable bed, trying to forget about his fingers going numb. The moon is shining through a barred window, and Valentine can slightly see how dirty the place is. It disgusts him, and he pulls a thin blanket over himself, trying to sleep, thinking that this is all a dream and that he'll be back in his own world, performing for crowds and having fun, laughing his worries away.
Deep down though, he knows this is all reality and he can't escape from his problems this time.