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Sometimes, you need to leave. And that's what Vic has done. She hasn't killed herself, that's very clear to me. She's gone away, to the place she always wanted to be. If you've been following this story closely you'll know where that is too. But if not, it's OK. Just know that she's safe. She's gone away. What is all this money and success for if it can't buy you the time to heal?
And now I'm going to find her. I don't know what I'll find when I get there, how she'll be. But I know that she's chosen to live, and that's something. I know that she's chosen to get strong, to throw her pursuers off the scent for a while. People will be angry when they find out she's not dead, I suppose. Funny that: we like our dead martyrs better than the people who find the strength to carry on living. We long to see the skull beneath the skin.
So. I'm taking my sketchbooks and pencils. Maybe I'll draw her, maybe she'll write songs. Maybe we'll walk and talk and I'll forget that I was ever in love with her. Or maybe she'll fall in love with me. It really doesn't matter all that much. Life continues, full of infinite surprises. It'll be enough to be with my friend, to see her face, to assure myself that she's really still here.
Life is a long winding road up a jagged mountain. Sometimes we think we've reached the summit, but every peak just reveals further summits ahead. In truth, there is no summit. We just keep climbing. It's not really important where you are, or whether sometimes you fall. We all of us just keep on going: that is what it means to be alive.
And so I travel hopefully. There is an excitement bubbling up in me that I remember from my childhood: the delirious anticipation of a journey of adventure. I don't know where we'll go next. I don't know what Vic will want to do. But I know that she's alive and that's enough. I know it hasn't ended here.
This story was written by Naomi Alderman.