View From Heaven | By : Vally Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 728 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of HIM. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
A/N: Yes, this is a companion to Truth About Heaven. I recommend reading that first but it can stand alone more or less. This also has a much more stable time line. *^^* and on a random note my friend Dassani got HIM played on a local radio station dedicated to her daughter Skye! Now Punki, my boyfriend, is jealous and says that if I really love him I will do something similar. *eye roll, sarcastic snort* Yeah right… Though I am tempted to shoot the DJ an Email requesting our song be played. Our song being HIM’s Buried Alive By Love…
Warnings: VAM, SLASH, songfic, Violence, cursing, character death, Depressing, self harm-ish…..
Full Summery: A man tries to bare the lonely ache of living despite his lover‘s death…Companion to Truth About HeavenVAM
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Ville Valo or Bam Margera. I make zero cash on this so keep the lawyers and such at bay! I am but a poor college student have mercy on my abused, EasyMac(which is also copyrighted and not mine) nourished frame!!!!
Also, Yellow Card's featured song, Truth About Heaven is not mune either. I can't write songs to save my soul!
Archiving: If you would like to add my work to your own site please send me an Email. Or if you have a suggestion of another good place for me to post send me a link. ^^
View From Heaven
You never realize what you have until it’s gone… I had heard this from the time I was a kid but I never really paid the old saying much attention. There wasn’t much I was protective of to such an extent. Then I met him. I loved him, I celebrated life with him! And he died…. What is it now? Close to twenty years without him. I did many foolish things during that time. I got married. Then divorced. I threw myself off of a cliff, literally. I screwed a lot of things up with that stunt too. After words I regretted it down to my very core. It was at that moment, after spending what felt like forever in a hospital eating through a tube and listening to some retarded nurse on the night shift ramble my brain in and out of place, I came to realize that this wasn’t what he would want for me. He would want me to go on. He would want me to soak up life so that when I joined him I would have an eternity worth of stories to tell.
So I went on and started skating and being an ass again. We finished Jackass3 without much incident, after I recovered that is. Couldn‘t tell you why they waited on me almost a year for the docs to give the green light but that‘s not my problem. I think they edited that cliff stunt out too but then Knoxville nearly lost a ball, not that anyone really cares about him…. At least not my Ville. No, he only cared about my dumb ass. His Bammie. Though I think Steve-O and Dunn were worming their way into his heart and good graces toward the end. Ryan’s cool, but I’ll never understand what he saw in Steve-O’s pathetic existence though really he isn’t a half bad person when you look past the drugs and shit. I still feel really bad for Pontius though having to deal with Steve-O all by himself more or less now. Poor fuck picked up HIV when he experimented with heroine toward the end of shooting Jackass 3 but Chris just won‘t let him go down alone, gotta give a man like that some respect. I still wonder how Steve-O went from being a simple pot-head to something as destructive as heroin, never really pegged the crazy bastard as the type…
Anyway, after the movie shit was over I spent a lot of time at Castle Bam. It was lonely and way to fucking quiet since everyone had pretty much moved out after that Bam‘s Unholy Union fiasco started but no one moved back in after the divorce or even after Jackass3 premiered. It didn’t bother me that much actually. I knew they were trying to give me my space, and there was always at least one other person there with me, plus my parents most of the time and yet it was still so quiet. The guys took turns staying over for a week or two. I doubt they actually think I haven’t figured them out but it’s not worth the hassle of saying anything to the fuckers. They went to all the trouble of not only getting a few of the Jackass crew, including an oddly collected and sane Knoxville, but the Dudesons and even Dani to stop in for a while.
I remember the look on Ryan’s face when he found the Finns waiting outside for their ride to the airport. I was sitting on the roof watching with my new best friend burning down my throat and another half dozen bottles a few feet away incase this bottle wasn’t enough. It never was, not for a long time anyway. Ryan had looked like he wanted to cry. Or kill something, it was always so hard to tell with him. From that look I gathered they had told him about me locking myself in my room again and blasting Razorblade Romance the entire week only leaving a handful of times for bathroom and liquid breaks. I was having trouble keeping food down again. I know it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, and I knew it would be taken about as well as Novak’s most resent “episode” but it’s not like I’m shooting up or anything half as stupid as that fucker. Hell this was the first time I’d drank any alcohol whatsoever since the divorce was finalized and the Jackass shooting was over, all almost three months ago. Ryan doesn’t need to worry about me. Fucker should know that by now. I’m Bam Margera for Christ’s sake and I ain’t going anywhere anytime soon!
Sure… I’m tired and I miss Ville. Every bit of me aches to see him again. To hear him and touch him. Ape tells me he’s in a better place, well that’s bullshit. I know my Willa and he hasn’t gone anywhere. He’s right here. I just can’t see him for some reason but they’ll see… Still, it doesn’t mean I can’t miss him until I see him again. Doesn’t mean I can’t listen to his CD’s, interviews, anything I can get my hands on really, over and over again just to remember his voice. Just so I can fall off to sleep and dream about him one more time. Pretend that he isn’t gone and we’re together again. That we’ve shouted our love to the world and doing everything we had been talking about doing. Laughing in the faces of those who tried to bring us down and inspiring people to stand up and say, “I’m gonna do whatever the fuck I want!” Yeah, those would have been some good days. The shock, the horror and the reluctant acceptance from some and immediately thrilled, open arms of others. It woulda been insane. But for now I just want to sleep…
I'm just so tired
wont you sing me to sleep
and fly through my dreams
so I can hitch a ride with you tonight
and get away from this place
have a new name and face
I just ain’t the same without you in my life
There’s some guy that’s been sending me weird shit for the last couple of weeks. He’s sent me paintings, drawings, sculptures and this one thing that I’m not even sure what it’s called. I’d call it junk art or random shit art but that’s just me. He sends a little letter with every single one and an invitation to his next show. I’ve yet to go to one but I read the notes and keep them in a folder with my box of HIM CDs. Apparently this weirdo has been drawing some insane amount of inspiration from Ville’s music. He says that he can feel the hidden emotion in the songs or some shit and he sends the ones he thinks are “to intense and personal” to me. Look up “Insane Mother Fucker” and you’ll find a picture of this guy, I guarantee it! But all of that aside, the guy is a decent artist. I actually hung a few of the paintings and have some of the sculptures on display. The rest I sent with copies of the letters and one of my own to Ville’s parents. His mom seems glad that I’ve kept in contact even though I know it tears us both up inside. She’s a great lady. I kinda wish her and Ape had been able to get to know one another under better circumstances, like a commitment ceremony or some shit between Ville and I, but as it is the death of a loved one doesn’t make the base for healthy friendships.
I remember when Ape met Ville’s mom for the first time. It was at the funeral.
He was buried in a family plot in Helsinki and everyone had turned out for his burial. Even a few reporters had wormed their ways in. Ape had looked at me strangely when I appeared in the lobby of the hotel we were staying at in my famous purple blazer, black slacks, my Ville’s favorite scarf and a HIM beanie. She had suggested I change into a suit or put a shirt on or something. I looked her straight in the face and spoke for the first time since we had gotten the news. It was soft and barely a shadow of my former voice but there were audible words slithering from my chapped lips.
“This is who I am, mom. He wouldn’t want me there any other way. He would expect nothing less then us being ourselves…” The word “mom” struck a cord I think. Her eyes were all teary and she had smiled sadly and told me she was sure Ville thought I looked handsome as he watched me from heaven.
I can’t help wonder what his view is like. I hope it’s better then what I see down here. Since burying my Ville I’ve searched Europe for a scene that even remotely resembles what I imagine his heaven to be like. At least that’s what the magazines say, romancing my lonely treks across the Euro. country side. I really just got sick of sitting around, I wanted to see new things for myself not just drive by or fly over them then read about it all in some lame hotel brochure. Just like Ville had suggested we do after we came out. Take a vacation and appreciate the little things for a while. It was a little over eight years after his death that this wonder lust gripped me. That artist, who apparently continued to find great inspiration in my Ville, had sent me this sculpture. It’s one of the few I kept with me, sitting in plain sight no less. It depicted a metal man standing on top of a platform that reminded me of part of a half pipe with a long haired man of smoky glass standing behind him, arms wrapped around the metal man’s shoulders seemingly unnoticed. I knew the moment I saw it that the figures were me and Ville. It was the most disturbing piece he had sent me yet. And I loved it. Ape had seemed worried when tears started to streak my face and they were all confused when I announced I would be in Europe for an undetermined amount of time. Ryan actually followed me across the ocean and around my first few destinations until he was sure I wasn’t suicidal or something. He can be such a stupid, blind fuck sometimes but I think he rather enjoyed the south of France and the countryside we practically strolled through on our way.
It was funny. I was in Finland for almost two months toward the end of my stay in Europe. I visited Anita and the Dudeson’s new ranch. I even made an appearance for a few episodes of the new show their making. I honestly didn’t think those fucks could get any more insane but they proved me wrong. I think I smiled the closest thing to a real smile that’s been seen in ten years. I loved Finland. I actually heard one of HIM’s songs on the radio while I was there. I ended up on the side of the road, not quite crying but completely overcome by emotions before the song ended. I felt the love and pain rip through me like it did every time I heard his voice or saw his face. Over nine years now and I had yet to see him anywhere other then in photos or in my memory. I hadn’t heard him anywhere but on CDs, music videos and clips of interviews and shows I had download off the internet. I swear I felt him once though. At least I like to think it was him, my Ville. Probably cooing memories in my ear that I couldn’t hear…
It was while I was in France right before Dunn finally gave up trying to drag me home. He had gone into some random store while I tried to buy a pastry at a little shop that’s quaintness reminded me of Ape. My French sucks and I could just imagine what Ville was saying as I stumbled through my order, the nice lady at the counter smiling sympathetically in that “aw he‘s so adorable in his failure” way. He’d probably compare my lack of skill in French to my Finnish. He was always doing shit like that. Then I started thinking about the first really intense Finnish lesson he gave me. I wanted to make a good impression on his folks and asked him for some help. Anita had been so overcome at my lame attempt that her teary, broken English reply left me, of all people, speechless. Ville had been so proud of me that day… Apparently I was staring into space again if Dunn’s upset look was anything to go on. He looks like he isn’t sure if he wants to be pissed off or concerned. Before he can suggest going back home again I walk back to the shitty little car I had bought specifically for my little road trip. I had scrolled down on the iPod hooked up to the stereo system to a play list of Ville’s favorite songs that I had made for him as a random present once a long time ago. I had kept a copy of the folder for some reason. It wasn’t a big deal at the time. After all who can honestly say that they’ve filled 8gigs of memory with only stuff they listen to on a regular basis? Now the folder was priceless. I listened to it constantly and remember him playing it the time we took the Lambo out on the Autobahn. We had so much fun that day, nearly died at least a dozen times but it was one of the best days of my life. Now I don’t know if it feels like yesterday or a hundred years ago that we went for a ride together. All I know is it’s so much quieter without his beautiful laugh and deep melodic voice making fun of my horrible half assed singing as we sung along with Iggy Pop. I drive more carefully without the adrenaline his smile and “accidental” touches caused to pump through my veins. All I have left are my memories, and my shitty voice whispering with the lyrics to the darkness…
late night drives,
all alone in my car
I can't help but start
singing lines from all our favorite songs
and melodies in the air
Singin’ life just ain’t fair
sometimes I still just can't believe you're gone
I didn’t see the states again for three years though I was in Canada for a spell.
I was home for less then a month before I got a call from a very tired sounding Ryan Dunn that Novak was dead. The fucker overdosed on a brain melting concoction of pain meds, coke, heroin and the list of other shit seemed to go on forever. I didn’t cry for him. I think that maybe I should have, he was my friend. A very messed up friend but a friend nonetheless.
I hope he finds whatever it is he’s looking for.
I went to his funeral in jeans and an Element T-shirt. I watched the people around me and the mix of emotions that played out, most note worthy were the frowns that my casual clothes drew. Whatever. The pomp and circumstance that Novak’s relatives put into the addict’s burial was a load of bullshit. The fucker would have been just as happy being cremated and his ashes tossed over some drug dealer’s back alley shop. I mused beyond my friend to my things all packed and the Hummer ready for another nice long stay in the Airport long term parking lot as the disgustingly traditional service dragged on. Then I went to see my Ville. Well, his grave anyway. I thanked and paid the old caretaker guy handsomely, as always, for keeping the grave pristine and taking care of any tokens fans left. It wasn’t quite the anniversary of his death just yet but I’d stay the month until it came and bring him his roses then. For now I just wanted to be near what was left of my lover’s physical form.
I greeted him as always and told him about Novak. I asked him to kick the bitch’s ass if he saw him in heaven. Then I went quiet. I just thought about everything and anything from Novak to Ville to my mom and Anita even Steve-O popped in for a moment. I should check up on him and Pontius. My thoughts went in circles but came to rest on my normal habits when I visited on the anniversary. How I would talk about recent events and reminisce about our last time together about a week after my New Years party and that soul shatter moment when I found out…
It was a beautiful day. A lazy day. Utterly prefect in it’s difference from my normally hectic life. I was watching Phil make a sandwich when the phone rang. Ape picked it up and yelled for me. I answered with a cheery “Who the fuck is it and what the hell do you want?”
“Is this Mr. Brandon Margera?” I felt my face fall. That small sentence told me that Ville was in trouble. He and Ape were the only two people that used that name for anything anymore and it was only used when something bad was going on.
“This is he.” My voice was so small. Looking back that was probably why Phil was looking at me so oddly.
“I am Dr. Nernis at Lenox Hill Hospital in New York City. Do you know a Mr. Valo?”
“What’s happened to Ville?! What the hell’s going on?!” I knew that panicking wouldn’t help but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
“Mr. Valo was shot about half an hour ago. You were the only emergency contact we found that lived in the US and we need you to come down as soon as possible...”
I don’t remember dropping the phone but Ape says I did. I don’t remember what else the Doctor said but Ape says he kept talking. I don’t even remember driving to New York. But I do remember punching that Dr. Nern-shit guy when he told me that Ville hadn‘t survived surgery. I remember him looking at me sadly, nose bleeding down his frowning face, as Phil and Ryan held me back with half the nursing staff it seemed and a dozen or more other patients looking at me like I was a lunatic. I remember screaming until I thought that I might cough up blood. I don’t know the exact words but Ape says I demanded to know who killed my Ville and why he, the doctor, let my Ville die. I blacked out after that. I was still conscious but my mind just kinda shut down. I was in and out of reality for a while. I remember the plane to Finland only vaguely but the morning of his funeral is disturbingly clear…
Waking up scared that I hadn’t brought the right clothes and being relieved when I found my slacks, blazer and beanie in mere seconds. I almost had a breakdown though when I misplaced Ville’s scarf for a few extra moments. I remember walking placidly into the hotel lobby and talking to Ape. I can still see the faces of the people gathered around Ville’s beautiful ebony casket. It was carved with heartagrams and twining gothic designs. It screamed Ville. I noticed that Dani, Lauri, Mige, Linde and his girls had brought black roses and made a mental note to bring one the next time I visited. Ville’s service was exceptionally short partly because the weather had already begun to turn uncomfortably cold but mostly because Anita had noticed my lack of proper clothing and asked it be shortened so I didn’t freeze to death. I couldn’t have cared less at the time. It was held in Finnish so I understood very little and mostly lost myself in my thoughts. After word many of us headed back to the Valo household. I think just as many people came to me with pointed condolences as went to Ville’s family.
And I didn’t shed a single tear until I got home and was locked away in my room…
The next time I voluntarily came out of my bedroom I proposed to Missy. Thankfully I didn’t put anything particularly important in her name because our marriage lasted all of three months. After the honey moon from hell Knoxville approached me and begged me to do a Jackass 3 with him and the guys. MTV was hoping a fresh new movie might spur another infamous TV series. I think my lack of any protest or hesitance when I simply said “Yes” scared the unshakable Johnny Knoxville. Three weeks into shooting and I was in the hospital. I had honestly thought I would be joining Ville that night but I woke up to Missy’s tears splattering on my face and her puffy eyes staring at me as she sobbed about how they thought I wouldn‘t wake up and that I would leave her and something about how much she loved me.
She was demanding a divorce less then a week later. Fuck her.
I wanted my Ville. Life was so dismal without him in it. All I had was the hope that we’d be together eventually and that he was waiting for me in heaven. I was sure he had a beautiful heaven. He deserved it if nothing else. Throughout my recovery and the rest of the filming for Jackass3 my dreams of Ville and his heaven were what kept me going. I lived day to day clinging to the hope that I would see his brilliant green eyes again and kiss his soft lips.
and I’m sure the view from heaven
beats the hell out of mine here
and if we all believe in heaven,
maybe we'll make it through one more year
down here
I feel your fire when its cold in my heart
and things sorta start
reminding me of my last night with you
I only need one more day
just one more chance to say
I wish that I had gone up with you too
It’s been a long fourteen years without my light, my Valo, in my life. Well at least he hasn’t been with me physically though I’m pretty sure he’s here in some way because I swear I hear him singing to me at night and I’m sure I’ve heard him chuckle at my smart remarks and stupid stunts. Just last week I remember the feel of his hand on my shoulder and a fleeting murmur of approval as I grinned over the blue prints Glomb and I had put together for my “Skate Retreat,” as Ape put it. Really I still didn’t have a name for it so I was just using that and desperately looking for something else to refer to it as. I’ve had Birdman and a handful of others look over the layout and put in their two cents while still keeping it uniquely me. The strangest thing has got to be my almost obsessive desire for a Ville Valo memorial. Well it isn’t strange to me but everyone else gets the strangest looks when I mention it, everyone but Anita, Ape, Phil and Jess. Anita actually offered for Ville’s remains to be moved to Castle Bam a little while back. I was visiting her the week after the anniversary of his death. I mentioned that the guys had agree to let me use the name HIM Fund for a music scholarship I was setting up in both the US and Finland before commenting as casually as possible to her that it looked like someone had chipped bits of Ville’s gravestone off. She had sighed and looked at me sadly.
“Yes. I noticed too. It has gotten worse in the past few years. I thought they would go away as time past but they have only been coming more. I don’t think it is safe for my lapsi here anymore.” She looked like she was about to cry, “Maybe in America? He loved it there so. He loved being there with you as much as he loved being here.”
“He would be safe at Castle Bam. I can guarantee it! You would be welcome to visit whenever you wanted and there would always be a room open to you.” I clutched my cup of tea for dear life hoping she would say yes. Like her I had notice the vandalism getting worse and even I knew there was only so much an aging caretaker could do no matter how much I paid him.
She had only nodded and the arrangements were made to move what remained after all these years. I returned home to get things ready and found another letter and a painting from the stalker artist on my doorstep. Stepping into the house I spotted the statue I had kept and a brilliant idea came to me. I tore into the envelope bypassing the letter and scanned the habitual invitation that had gotten steadily fancier over the years before grabbing some clothes and getting back in the hummer to drive to New York City. To the city my Ville had died in. How disgustingly ironic. The show was in two days and I had been determined to have this Paul person make Ville’s memorial no matter what it would cost me. Thankfully it didn’t cost much. Paul, a slim not quite scrawny, doe eyed and scruffy haired man with a unique beauty that reminded me of my Ville stuck out like a sore thumb even at his own show. He was well into his twenties by now and even surrounded by paintings, drawings, sketches and sculptures of what I recognized as myself and Ville in various poses both friendly and sexual alongside the rest of HIM and other obscured famous figures that I know not a soul there recognized, all reflecting how he saw them. His world surrounded us all and yet among the intruders he was the one who looked like he didn’t belong. Even so I had to smile. He looked like just the kind of person my Ville would have wanted for the job. I think he was surprised to see me after so many years without even a response letter if the beer bottle crashing to the floor from is grasp was any indication. I asked him if he had any more stashed away because all I saw out was fancy shit and he nodded dumbly before leading me to a gloomy little back room who’s walls were covered in old band posters, including HIM, and half finished sketches and paintings on scrap paper with a card table, broken TV, couch and an old sick sounding fridge. We drank not-quite cool beer and talked about mostly nothing until finally he asked why I was there. He grinned like I used to before the love and light in my life died… and asked when I wanted him to start.
and I’m sure the view from heaven
beats the hell out of mine here
and if we all believe in heaven
maybe we'll make it through one more year
down here
you wont be comin' back
and I didn't get to say goodbye (goodbye)
I really wish I got to say goodbye
It took Paul two months to finish the memorial from paper to full material existence. He was at Castle Bam for almost six months. In that time he covered a room three times with half finished work. When the room was full he heaped everything into a pile in the living room like a sacrifice before my framed picture of HIM and told me to do what I wanted with it. He said that normally he would just give it to his dealer friend and let her do as she saw fit. Sell what she thought sale worthy and throw the rest away or whatever else she wanted to do with the pieces. He told me to think of it as payment for letting him stay with me for so long. I couldn’t have cared less. It was nice having someone around. Someone who didn’t treat me like I was glass or like I was throwing my life away pining for a dead man. The latter was mostly Dunn. He had developed an almost violent hate for the connection I still felt with Ville. Fuck him. He couldn’t possibly understand what is going on.
It’s been sixteen years now since that horrible afternoon phone call. The grand opening of The Memorial to Light and reburial of my beloved’s remains went off beautifully. It was a quiet ceremony. The reburial that is. It was close friends and family only with Paul and his partner as special guests. I met Paul’s partner just after the memorial was finished and he was gone to film some kind of documentary a week later. They were a good pair and reminded me of Ville and myself. Anita had taken a lot of joy in meeting the man who built her son such a beautiful memorial. He had replied by telling her it wasn’t just for Ville. He explained that it was for me and Ville, for the love we shared and that is why he called it The Memorial to Light and not The Memorial to Ville Valo. I found this out a week after he left from Ryan who had been drunk and was about to take a sledge hammer to the brilliant piece he had loathed from its very conception. I wasn’t nearly as surprised as I think he was hoping I would be.
“I kinda figured it, ya know?” I said in a soft voice that had him lowering the hammer and staring at me in blatant concern, “Honestly, you’d have to be a fucking retard not to see it…”
And that was very true. The memorial was of two almost faceless, though obviously male, figures one was tall with long hair and a lithe, flowing body structure and the other was shorter and a bit broader with a more angular form. They appeared to be dancing. Who lead and who followed was carefully undefined but the most remarkable feature was a pair of platinum necklaces, one worn by each man. Bam had them commissioned after talking with Paul about it. The artist had wanted to use affordable steel or simple silver as was usual for him but Bam insisted on platinum. Only the best for his Ville. So each figure wore a fine crafted platinum link chain. At about collar bone level on the taller figure the chains came together and held a platinum heartagram suspended between them. I was very much satisfied with the memorial and hoped Ville was too. It was a few days later, after Ville’s family had returned to Finland that I opened the skate retreat officially, inviting nearly two dozen other pro skaters and the necessary media. I got many compliments on it and several kind words concerning the memorial. Birdman even brought a black rose for Ville. This had surprised me. Sure Tony and I were friends but we were never overly close. I hadn’t even known he knew about Ville and I, though I suppose after his death my behavior must have tipped people off pretty well.
“I asked April.” He said softly, probably in response to my confused face, “She said it’s what you brought him when you…”
I smiled a little at his unfinished sentence, knowing that he was trying not to make me feel sad on this happy day and on an impulse of uncharacteristic something or other I hugged him. He froze but relaxed after a moment. I murmured a quiet thank you and excepted the rose from him before personally placing it on Ville’s grave. I knew that we would be splashed across tabloids and magazines. I’ll bet he did too but neither of us cared. I told him with a small smile that this was the first rose Ville got in America. The sad light in Tony’s eyes at that fact told me he understood how privileged he was that I had placed his rose there before I had offered one of my own. He is a good man.
and I’m sure the view from heaven
beats the hell out of mine here
and if we all believe in heaven
maybe we'll make it through one more year
I hope that all is well in heaven
cause it's all shot to hell down here
I hope that I find you in heaven
cause I’m so...
lost without you down here
you wont be coming back
and I didn't get to say goodbye (goodbye)
I really wish I got to say gooooodbye
I’ve started renovating Castle Bam into a sort of HIM museum. I announced my intentions during a radio interview and the next day Mige, and Linde appeared at my front door. I invited them in and they presented me with two disks. One was labeled “Witches and Other Night Fears”(1) while the other simply had a purple heartagram on it. As it turned out Ville had written me songs even before we got together. Obviously he didn’t release them but he had recorded them himself and with the help of Mige and Linde for posterity. My Ville had a sappy streak a mile wide when he wanted to. I miss that about him. It’s been seventeen years since Ville’s murder, about six or seven years since Novak’s overdose and I just got a call that Dani’s dead. He was here just a week ago and now he was gone, his plane crashed. What are the odds huh? Then again Ville was shot by a common criminal. God’s humor makes my stomach feel ill. After hanging up I cried for nearly four hours curled up on Ville’s grave, clutching one of his skirts that he had left in my closet the last time he had visited Castle Bam, the last time I ever saw him. It had lost his scent years ago but I could still remember how it looked on him and the sound of his voice as he protested half heartedly when I nearly ripped a seem trying to get it off of him.
Ryan has everyone on watch duty again. Raab was here for a bit, and he looks more tired every time I see him these days. I wonder why sometimes but he never wants to talk about it. Knoxville is alive and kicking, miracle of miracles. I would have thought he would have accidentally killed himself by now but again God’s humor is fucking sick. I was surprised at how much response I got from the small piece I said concerning the museum in that interview. Besides Mige and Linde I received several packages and letters from HIM fans including signed Cds, posters, old band shirts and amateur video footage from concerts. It took me a year and a half to make everything perfect. MTV did a special on the renovation and opening of the private museum. I invited most of the people who contributed including Paul as I had decided to display several of his pieces and the rest of HIM. I almost broke down when someone suggested they play one of their songs but they all refused. They said it just wouldn’t be the same without Ville but I know they did it because they realized I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Johnny showed up out of nowhere toward the end after MTV had begun to pack up and several people had already left. He stayed the rest of the week and we talked a lot about mostly nothing. He asked about how I was and if I had heard from Steve-O and Chris. When I said no he told me they were getting married in Canada before moving to someplace warmer with less people or some shit so that if Steve started to get six they wouldn’t be swamped by media. I was glad to hear Steve was clean of drugs finally even if he still had the AIDS to worry about. Looks like none of us get a faery tail ending. When Knoxville left I was alone until my birthday when, as had become usual when I was at home, Ryan came to coax me out to party. I turned him down as had become tradition and he yelled at me for a bit before stomping off. A few weeks later I found him staring at Ville’s grave angrily. When he started yelling at it I almost rushed over afraid he’d try to harm the site but he just screamed until he broke down sobbing, falling to his knees in the soft grass. I wished for my Ville to be at my side more then ever in that moment. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me and let me bask in their safety. I wanted to feel his love radiate into me, warming my very soul. I cried with Ryan that evening though I don’t think he’ll ever know that and I swear I heard Ville’s voice on the wind singing to me softly. It was barely discernable unless you already knew the tune by heart. It was a Finnish lullaby he’d taught me once a long time ago as we laid down to sleep after a wild night of drinking and messing around with my video camera. I hadn’t had any evidence of my Ville’s presence in a few years and I grasped it like a life line, imprinting it in my memory like a bold tattoo on flesh.
My brother died two months before the nineteenth anniversary of Ville’s death. Mom sobbed for two weeks and dad did his best to keep her from completely falling apart. Now she understood a little about my pain. I couldn’t bring myself to feel sorry for her and I know it makes me sound like a horrible person. I got less condolences for Jess than I did for Ville. Life is kinda funny that way sometimes isn’t it?
His wife and my nieces come visit once in a while. Ava and Scarlett have always given me extra big hugs when they see me since their dad died and I feel like crying every time. I don’t know why I feel the way I do but the girls told me that they hug me like that to make sure I know they love me incase I have to go to heaven too. I hope Jess can see how wonderful his girls are growing up, they’re both absolute gems. Sometimes I wonder if Ville would have wanted kids after we came out and I wonder if we would have been good parents. It’s a shame we’ll never know. Sadly, the visits became fewer and further between as the year wore on and the twentieth anniversary of Ville’s death and first anniversary of Jess passed. Mom cried the day before, the day of and the day after Jess’s anniversary. On the morning of the second day following the anniversary she asked me how I dealt with Ville. I said nothing then. My gaze wandered off and I stayed silent for a moment before getting up and leaving with a soft “I love you mom. See ya later, alright?” Two months later I went to my parents house and told her to come with me. See did so without question. I went to a little flower shop in town to pick up a package and returned home. The ride was silent. Upon arrival Ape followed me to the back yard and to Ville’s grave. She watched in silence as I sat before the gravestone opened the small flower box and drew out a perfect black rose.
“Hey baby. Twenty years today Wille. Have you been keeping track? Well, if not I did. How’s Dani? Did Jess come say “Hi” to you at least? If he hasn’t I’ll kick his ass for you if you haven’t already.” I smiled a little and chuckled at myself, “Do you still remember our last day together? It was a great day Ville, the best day ever! Remember baby? A few days after New Years and we had the house to ourselves for once. We spent the entire day lazing around, cuddling and just being together. Remember how I got you to play guitar and sing for me while I made lunch? Then you made me sing along to Johnny Cash songs and we danced around the living room.”
Ape smiled through her free flowing tears.
“My favorite part was when we decided to go out for dinner and I called up that fancy restaurant and got us in at the peek of the dinner rush. Remember the hostess’ reaction when we walked up? I was in jeans and that red silky button down you liked so much with my black coat and top hat while you had on those tight pants and sleeveless shirt with your favorite HIM beanie. You had my purple blazer on too, remember? It was to big and too short all at the same time.” I chuckled even as I felt tears pricking my eyes.
Ville had looked so beautiful that night. His make up was done so perfectly and screamed Ville Valo, front man of HIM! He even lined my eyes for me and painted my nails with a fresh coat of black. His nails were done in a French manicure only black polish replaced the common white. We were about to leave when Ville asked about the weather. It was cold out and I knew it would only get colder so I told him to wear my blazer and I’d where my black coat with the sleeve that mimicked his tattoo. We both laughed at how oddly the blazer fit him. Too wide in the shoulders and short in length. Neither of us had realized that I was so much broader or that Ville was so much taller. It was a great start to an amazing night.
“And remember, that was the first time you wore my Christmas present in public? We were both so scared and excited all at the same time. I still have that ring Ville. The hospital had taken it off of you but I still kept it. I even still look at it sometimes to remember just how green your eyes were and how much they sparkled. I remember the antique guy apologizing that it wasn’t a proper emerald, that it was flawed but the age of the piece made up for it. I told him it was perfect just like your eyes. I almost corrected him when he said: “I’m sure she’ll love it, congratulations.” I chuckled again as tears began to flow over my cheeks, “I miss you so much Ville. I almost broke when they told me you were dead, that you bled to death. I think I scared the police officer too when he told me they had lost the guy who shot you. I threw a bottle of Coke at him and tried to punch him like I had the Doctor guy. Phil and Ryan almost weren’t enough to hold me back. The sick part Ville is that I went to the gas station. You know, the one you were shot at? There was a kid there. Never got his name but he handed me the pack of cigarettes you had bought. Never asked how he had gotten a hold of them either but he said you had dropped them after you collapsed and he thought you might want them for later. He had no idea you were dead and I just told him I’d make sure you got the message and the pack anyway. He told me that you had stood between the gunman and his older sister, that you saved her life. It‘s so selfish Ville but all I could think about was that this kid still had his sister and I had nothing. I was angry at him because he had seen your last moments on earth and I didn‘t even get to say good bye to you…”
Everything was silent for a heartbeat before I stood up.
“I miss you Ville and I love you. I’m almost forty-seven, can you believe that Willa? I’m getting to be old. Guess that just means I’m that much closer to seeing you again, huh? Later, alright babe? Hope your doing well and that you like the rose, as usual… Good bye, again, never forget how much I love you Ville.” I smiled a little and blew the grave a kiss before turning around and walking to my mom, “You just deal Ape. You just survive on happy memories I guess and remember they’re still watching.”
She stood out there for a little bit longer, the moon rising high in the sky before I took her back home.
I don’t know why but I invited a whole bunch of people to Castle Bam a few weeks before my birthday. Even Knoxville was there though Chris and Steve had declined. Steve started getting sick about six months ago. I sent them both my hopes that things would go easy. I knew that AIDS was a terrible disease but what more could I do? I was only glad that Chris was still clean and I know Steve was too. Ryan has been trying to get me to go out for my birthday since he showed up at Castle Bam and he gets this frustrated look whenever he sees me standing by Ville’s grave. I just ignore him. Despite his over fifty years Knoxville has started a small prank war that has been entertaining the younger guests for the past week or so. Some of us are grateful for this and others, the smarter ones, are scared shitless.
I still hear Ville singing to me when I go to sleep and I find myself wanting to sleep more and more. I think this may actually be why Dunn is angry. I told him years ago that I hear Ville sing. He probably figured out that it’s getting clearer. He’s probably scared by this because he doesn’t want to loose me. I’ll miss him when I die but I miss Ville more right now.
and I’m sure the view from heaven
beats the hell out of mine here
and if we all believe in heaven
maybe we'll make it through one more year
I hope that all is well in heaven
cause it's all shot to hell down here
I hope that I find you in heaven
cause I'm so...
lost without you down here
you wont be coming back
and I didn't get to say goodbye (goodbye)
I really wish I got to say gooooodbye
The sight of Ville sitting at my feet and smiling sadly at me almost gave me a heart attack. Dunn had been yelling at me again but I didn’t pay enough attention to understand most of his words. Something about forgetting Ville, that he was never coming back. But my Ville was here, he had always been with me and now I could see him. Proof that he had never left me. Dunn sat in silence for a moment as I smiled back at my Ville. Everything around me was slowing to a halt. They all waited for me to respond and I think my sick little smile; the tears shining bright in my eyes, may have disturbed them.
“Because….” I whispered as I stared at the man I loved, afraid that if I looked away he‘d vanish and I‘d be alone again, “He’s here Dunn. He never left. How can I just forget someone when they’re always with me? He‘s been watching over me, don‘t you understand? He loves me so much and I haven‘t been without him. Not a single day has gone by without him being there, just like he always said he would be.”
Silence. No one moved and hardly a breath disturbed the quiet air until I stood up and excused myself with some lame excuse. I went to my room and looked fondly at the picture I kept at my bedside of Ville and myself before picking it up and laying down on my back, staring up at the ceiling as I held the picture tightly. I know Ville was still with me though I couldn’t see him anymore, I felt his long fingers stroking my hair as I drifted to sleep. I woke some time later, even Ville doesn’t know how long it was, to green eyes and long, curling brown hair. I stared at him for a moment before reaching out to run my knuckles gently over his soft cheek. I touched his face for a small eternity before raining loving kisses in my hand’s wake. He stopped me eventually and silently pulled me down to earth. Ryan seemed to be taking my death in stride. He was the one to find me and I felt bad for that. Mom took it the worst. After loosing Jess I was surprised she survived my death. I tried so hard to get her to stop crying. Eventually Ville pulled me away even though no one could see the scene I was making. We ended up down in the morgue just as they were bringing my body in. I flung a tray at a tech and scared the kid half to death as I continued to rage about my lack of ability to comfort Ape. A distinctly not-Ville hand on my shoulder startled me and I think I nearly killed my brother again when I tackle/hugged him. We talked for hours and I felt a million times better for it. We met up with Dani and Novak for my funeral. I beat on Novak a little before everything started and laughed when Dani mentioned that they had been “God Hunting” and asked me to join them. I told them hell no.
I was buried next to Ville on the grounds of Castle Bam and April had the site fenced off. Paul created two more statues and they were placed at the gate. Ape finished renovating the house into a HIM and Bam Margera museum before opening Castle Bam Skate Paradise a few months later and I couldn’t have been prouder. Skate fans and HIM fans alike visited for the skate park and fully functional museum. Several people even visited the fenced off grave site that was under strict 24 hour surveillance. Ape was a bit paranoid concerning grave robbers. She also made sure that the HIM fund would stay up and running as I hadn’t mentioned it in my will. Ville and I went to visit Steve-O and Pontius too. Chris looked so tired and Steve’s sickness was getting more obvious now. After that we saw Ryan. He visits a few times a year now with a black rose for Ville and a red rose for me in his hands and a few sad but kind words.
Ville showed me around our heaven in between watching all of the things Ape and my friends were doing. It was bright and beautiful, somehow even more so because of the soft cool drizzle of rain. We made love in very nook and cranny of our heaven before moving down to earth. Now, years later, most of our time is spent haunting Castle Bam. We’ve even become a bit of a ghost story. We’ve been seen by guests surprisingly often and since I’ve gotten better at effecting the world I started pulling pranks. When Knoxville died three years after I did in a dumb car accident he insisted on helping me with my pranks and pulling others of his own. He thought it was neat that because he was already dead he didn’t have to worry about getting hurt. Ville laughs at our stupidity constantly though the most he‘s done to participate is sing to the occasional visitors that come to see our graves through out the year. On the anniversaries of our deaths though, when tons of people gather, he stays quiet and just watches as the sky clouds over and it drizzles solemnly on Castle Bam. He never answers when I ask why he does this or why it always rains he just smiles sadly and hugs me close. The next day our after-lives continue on, for how long nobody knows but I’ll take whatever amount of time I can get with my Ville.
“I love you Willa.”
He smiles at me before pulling me into a hug as we stand on the roof where I once sat in depression looking out over the grounds of Castle Bam, “I love you two Bammie.”
“I like it when things have happy endings.” I tell him and he chuckles.
“I think most people would call this bittersweet kulta.” I just shrug as I watch a young skater fall flat on his ass and grin broadly.
Who knew heaven could be so perfect after all?
END
A/N: I’m not completely happy with the ending but eh… I have class tonight and just HAD to get this out! It’s been incubating on my laptop since a few weeks after I finish Truth About Heaven!! Oh, and just so everyone knows I am rewriting TAH to coincide better with this because I like how events played out better here. The time line is more defined and it makes much better sense. So yeah… and hopefully I’ll have the next chapter of BNW out in a week or less, we shall see! Hope you all enjoyed my bittersweet and sappy oneshot!
1- “Witches and Other Night Fears” was a demo tape made in ‘92 and never released. Rumor has it that the only copy resides on Ville’s laptop. Info courtesy of Wikipedia. ^^
Finish-ness:
Lapsi- Child, brat, kid, baby
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