The Story of Giselle & Damian

Short Story inspired by song "Letters" by Facundo Raganato

The Story of Giselle & Damian

***

Part I

My name is Timothy Quain. I'm a writer from the town of Lestville. I think I am the most appropriate to tell this story...

Our town is small. Most people have been asking me about them; most people know about them. But they don't know the details of their story; what happened exactly and why they did what they did. So please, believe me when I write, that everything that I'm about to tell you about their story is true.

First, let me tell you where I am, for I think the situation at hand is very close what has happened, and I better describe what is happening now just in case the worst happens next . . .

I am temporarily living in Giselle's house, staying in her living room, sleeping on the couch. Lucy is staying in the guest room. And Giselle . . . well she has been inside her room for three days till this day . . .

Lucy has been a friend from childhood, Giselle's and mine's. All three of us have always had a good friendship throughout the years; we have supported each other in any hardships, but I think this is has been the heaviest still.

Throughout the day and night, Lucy does not leave Giselle's side, she's still very afraid that she might take her own life in any chance she gets, and I do too. I have not spoken to Giselle since she decided to mourn in her room now, and I have not seen her either, except when Lucy prepares and takes food to her room. It is around noon when Lucy takes the tray, and I open the door for her. Only in those seconds, I see Giselle sitting on the side of her bed, always in the same position: looking out the window to the mountain, as if her mind were somewhere else. I close the door as soon as Lucy enters, and I always have the same dark feeling. I try to think that things will get better and Giselle will come back to her own self, but I have not seen any change. What gives me hope is the remembrances of Giselle before all this, how happy she was, and how happy Damian was too.

These last nights, when Lucy exits Giselle's room after midnight, knowing for sure that she is asleep, she sits with me and tells me how she has been there for her. She tells me the things Giselle says, which isn’t much. I see in the shadows of Lucy's eyes how hard she has been trying, and one night she cried quietly with me. I have told Lucy that I can be there with her inside the room, but she insists that it is better if I do not. She tells me that the fact that I'm here outside her room gives her hope. Also, she says Giselle might feel overwhelmed with the two of us are in there with her. I tell Lucy that she gives me hope too, for she knows the story as much as I do, and has the same remembrances of the past. Lucy and I have been closer than ever, we have seen how much that we can be there for each other, but now we are here for Giselle.

Last night, I think we had a breakthrough, or at least some type of liberation to say the least. There was storm yesterday, it was a dark rainy day, and no one in town seemed to get out of their home, except Giselle . . . It was around 2am, the rain was pouring heavy and there were lightnings and thunders. I heard Giselle's bedroom door open, and I turned to see her standing there. She was wearing a white dress as a ghost. Upon seeing her, I stand up from sitting and I see her eyes; although I was in front of her, she does not look like she sees me; her eyes hold the sight of being gone; with her mind somewhere else. She walks slowly through the living room, Lucy follow her from behind, as if she were sleepwalking. She walks to the front door and opens it, the wind from the storm pushes the door open violently. Lucy grabs the umbrella from the side and asks: "Would you like an umbrella to go outside, Giselle? It’s raining heavily." Giselle shakes her head numbly, without a word, and then walks outside into the rain as if nothing.

Lucy and I stand by the edge of the door, seeing how Giselle walks into the rain with such slow steps; as if each step required a lot of effort. She walks barefoot down the porch and then to the middle of the front yard. It was pouring, but Giselle did not seem to mind, to the contrary, it felt like she wanted to feel the water. She stopped in the middle of the front yard and raised her arms upward, looking up to the sky, facing the mountain. It was dark, we could not see much of her expression, but we could tell she also opened her mouth. If she was talking, laughing, crying or praying, we did not know, but there she stood under the rain. And then, the unnameable happened, I thought I had seen and felt many things, but what happened next gave me a chill that I would never forget, it also made me start writing this story. . .

Giselle yelled from the deepest part of her heart and soul: "Damian!" with her arms raised, trembling from the sound of her scream, and then again "Damian!!" with long A's and painful N's. Lucy began to cry at her second scream, she could feel her friend's pain in her calling. And then a third and last time: "Damian!!" before falling to the ground. Lucy and I ran to her, she opened the umbrella and I picked up the fainted Giselle to bring her into the house. We placed her on the couch and I brought some towels to dry her. She was barely mumbling and whimpering, as if she were dreaming. Lucy brought many bed sheets and pillows to keep her comfortable and warm; she stayed beside her saying nurturing and caring words to her friend. We decided to light some candles so we could see Giselle's face if she woke up. Lucy stayed by her side, humming caring melodies as she caressed her hair. I stayed on the chair near them, watching them in silence till I fell sleep.

That night I had a dream. It was a dream of a time where Giselle and Damian were together. It was a concert where many people from the town came to watch, and even Lucy was there, sitting next to me. We were watching how these lovers were playing their music together, just the two of them, as they often did. Damian played the piano, and Giselle played the violin. They played like if music was living through them, together, with such passion and talent, with such harmony and bliss. The grace that shone from their music was beyond description. Everyone in town got to know them through their music, everyone in the world got to know them through their with music. They had the perfect combination of harmony; they had the kind of chemistry that proves that fate exists, it was the kind of chemistry that proves that there is a perfect one for each soul. It felt as if these lovers were very lucky to have found each other, and the world was lucky that they did.

In the morning, I could tell why I had such beautiful dream. Lucy had climbed on to my lap during the middle of the night, and slept hugging me. I hugged her too. So when I woke up, she was there with me, holding on to me as if we were already lovers. We both woke up at the same time, and then Giselle spoke: "You make a great couple." She said in a hopeful yet tired voice, as if we were the only thing she believed in. Lucy stood up and walked to her, asking: "How are you feeling?"

"I should be with him." Giselle said.

"No, Giselle, you are safe, here with us. You are alive." Lucy replied.

"Am I? I don't feel alive. I feel cold."

While Lucy placed a cloth around her, I noticed someone approached to the door. I stood up and walked to open it, hoping to hear good news. It was the detective. By the look on his face, I could tell he did not bring anything new, he saw Lucy and Giselle sitting on the couch and took his time to speak: "We have been looking these days with all the officers from the town, but we cannot find the house, it seems the amount of snow covered most of the trees which referenced its location. Although there are many who want to volunteer to join our search, we strictly forbid civilians to join us. There has been trembling aftershocks and we fear it might cause another avalanche. We will do another search today before nighttime, but it will be the last one. I am very sorry to say this, but we doubt he's still be alive, that is if he managed to survive these days." The detective knew them too; he knew how hard it was for her. "I'm very sorry Giselle."

The silence spoke more than any words coming through our minds. "Thank you Detective." I said, and he left respectively. His words didn't seem to affect Giselle more than she was, but after he left she said:

"He's still alive."

Lucy did not know what to say, nor did I. We did not know to either support the hope of finding Damian, or be there with her to accept the fact that he was never coming back. Either way, we were with her. I sat on the armchair next to her. Lucy on her other side. We were without words, but with our arms around her.

Giselle stood up and turned to face us: "I really appreciate you both being here. You are wonderful friends. Both of you. But if you don't mind, I'd like to stay the rest of the day in my room, I would like to bring peace to my heart. Can you respect my wishes?"

I nodded, but Lucy stood up and said: "Promise me that you won't hurt yourself, and we'll respect your wishes."

"Don't worry, Lucy." Giselle responded, "I could not imagine being hurt more than I am now. I promise."

"Then, we'll be here outside your door, just in case you need us." I said.

Giselle nodded. "Thank you." And then took a moment to really look at us before turning into her room, and closing the door behind her.

I stayed with Lucy the whole day. She called the animal clinic to let them know she won't be coming to work today either, they were very comprehensive, for they also knew Giselle & Damian.

At lunch, Lucy told me that Giselle came to her house the day before the earthquake because she and Damian had a fight, the only fight they ever had:

"Damian wanted to have a family, but she didn't." Lucy told me "She said she needed more time to finish her compositions, but he said she was saying that only because she was afraid. She said it was a stupid argument, but she just needed to be apart for some time to process what he was asking."

"Who would have thought." I said. "If they wouldn't have had that fight, Giselle would also be with Damian trapped inside that house."

"I don't know why Damian had to build his house up there in the mountain, always surrounded by so much snow."

"Damian always loved snow, and he told me he built that house up there because of the peace of sound; it helps him compose. Giselle agreed when she lived there with him. You know how much time they spent time inside composing; we could hear the genius of their music when they performed. Besides, there has never been an earthquake in this town, and there has never been an avalanche in that mountain."

Giselle spent all day in her room. Lucy and I often stopped to see if we heard any sounds coming from inside, but there were none. She didn't came out for lunch nor dinner, although Lucy insisted on knocking on her door to ask her, I reminded her that she wished for peace; if she were hungry, she would get out.

Lucy and I cuddled on the couch that night, with a few candles lit. We did not asked nor question anything happening between us, we hugged and caressed each other as if we were already together. We still have not kissed, yet I think we are both waiting for everything to resolve for us to start on a good note.

Next morning, We both woke up early, and Giselle was the first thing in our minds. We walked to her bedroom door and tried to listen, but there were still no sounds. Lucy looked at me, and I nodded, I think it was alright to check to see how she was, at least to see if she was hungry.

"Giselle?" with caring voice, Lucy called out to her friend. And then a few soft knocks on her doors: "Giselle, are you awake? We were wondering if you wanted some breakfast." No answer. She knocked again softly "I know you don't want us to bother but we just want to hear your voice, see how you are." No answer. I knocked this time "Giselle? Can you talk to us please?" I knocked again. No answer. Now I was getting worried. I turned the knob, but it was locked. She never locked the door before. "Giselle." I knocked harder now, trying to turn the knob. "Giselle, please, open the door or we are going to break in." I knocked harder now. "Giselle, last warning, if you don't answer we are going to come in, do you hear me?!" No answer. Lucy covered her mouth, thinking the worst: "Oh my God." So I had no choice but to break in; I grasped the knob and used my shoulder to force the door open. "Giselle. Open the Door!" I kept pushing the door once and over, again and again, "Giselle!" and then I opened the door, breaking the door frame.

What we saw when we entered, was nothing that we expected to see. Giselle was not there. The window was open. There was a letter on the bed. Lucy ran to read it. I looked outside the window, but she was gone. I turned to Lucy, and she said: "She went to find Damian."

***

Part II

"Dear Lucy & Tim,

I apologize for causing you worry, but this is something I must do. I'm going to find Damian. I know I can't tell you 'don't try to stop me,' because you will try regardless. However, at least I can express that I could not continue living if I didn't give myself the chance to look for him. He is the love of my life, if God wants his life to end, I'd understand, but maybe God is testing me to prove how much I love him and how far I'm willing to go for him.

If I don't make it back, know that you have both been the best friends, and my life would not have been full of joy all these years without you two. I deeply thank you for your friendship, and I will always treasure you deeply in my heart and soul.

with love,

Giselle,

Ps: Yes, I want to be buried next to him."

***

Lucy read me the letter as I drove to the mountain. We didn't take any preparations, we just wanted to find Giselle. If we both knew how much she loves him, we know she would freeze to death in the snow trying to find him. Maybe we could not save Damian; saving Giselle was the least we could do.

There's an entrance to the mountain, which is where we stopped the car when we arrived, but we knew there were going to be some obstacles. As I saw a police officer walk out of his post to us, I told Lucy to stay in the car.

"Why?" She asked.

"I don't think he's going to let us pass the gates that easily." I said. "Stay here, get down and don't let him see you. I'll let you know when it's safe."

As I stepped out of the car and walked to the police officer to inform him of my reason here, I knew Giselle would have gone another way. Even though there is a fence which surrounds the mountain, I'm sure she must have avoided this gate to make the climb.

I better not describe how the conversation with the police officer went, let's just say that whatever excuse I had to cross the gates, he wouldn't let me; his orders were to guard the entrance so nobody can climb the mountain. He was very surprised though, when I darted forward, took his pistol, and without aiming at him I said: "Billy. I don't want to shoot you, but if you try to stop me, I will. Now, I'm going to climb the mountain to find my friend, you can go find the other police officers and tell them what I have done. I don't mind spending some time behind bars afterwards." I knew Billy, Lestville is a very small town, he was a senior guard with a white mustache and kind eyes. He looked very afraid with his hands up when I told him this, so very respectfully he ran towards the town.

Once far enough, I opened the car door for Lucy, and she stepped out: "What happened? Did you talk to him?"

I showed Lucy the pistol: "We won't have much time, let's go." Lucy could not picture me with a pistol, but in our urgency, she understood that nothing was going to stop us to find Giselle.

The mountain did not look so terrifying from afar, and even when we used to drive up there to Damian's house, it was quite a view. But since the avalanche, it felt like walking in a minefield uphill. The snow covered most of the road, and the climbing was steep now. Somehow it felt as if the weather had changed; there was more snow falling and the winds were sharp and misty. Lucy and I walked uphill on that steep mountain, using the half-covered trees as a reference of where Damian's house was.

We climbed up the mountain till we began to see red flags next to dug up holes in the snow. These were the flags the search party was using to map where they have been searching. They did not look like tombstones, but at least that's how they felt to me.

Lucy suggested that I go around the right side of the mountain, and she would go left. I agreed.

I cannot describe the thoughts I had when I was walking, my mind was principally looking for Giselle, but with every step I felt a deep sorrow for Damian, who might be still trapped inside his house under this very same snow. I still did look down though, to see if miraculously I would find a clue to the location of the house, but the mountain was different now, nothing I remembered about it was coming back to me. Everything had changed.

I was sure that we would find Giselle on her knees somewhere near, digging the snow with her hands, and we would convince her to go down the mountain with us. But we didn't.

I noticed the search party dug many holes around, but it only covered a quarter of where the house could be; this is not considering how deep it could be.

When I walked back to the spot where Lucy and I decided to go separate ways, there was Billy and three armed officers there. They saw me and aimed at me. I raised my hands, showing the pistol I had stolen, and yelled: "I give up. I won't shoot. I'm turning myself over." They took the pistol and handcuffed me. When they asked me if I came alone all the way up here, I said: "Yes. I just wanted to find my friend." The officers walked down with me and they took me to the sheriff's office to put me behind bars until further notice.

Now, Lucy stayed there on the mountain, unacknowledged by the officers, with a chance of finding Giselle. She searched the left side of the mountain after we separated; she walked around and didn't find anything but more snow and half-covered trees. After a while, she walked back and saw how the officers were arresting me. Her first reaction was to go to defend me, but the thought of Giselle kept her hidden. She saw me walking down the mountain with the officers, and she became afraid to the thought that Giselle's life was on her now.

She decided to climb the mountain higher, perhaps the amount of snow was more than expected, and the house was on higher ground than searched. Still, she kept her eyes open for Giselle, holding in her mind the same hope of finding her kneeling on the snow, digging with her bare hands.

After a few hours, while I was handcuffed in a jail temporarily at the sheriff's office, it happened again. Another earthquake. Furniture started to tremble, papers scattered, glasses fell and broke. Most officers stayed under the table waiting to stop. Only the detective, who stood by the frame of the entrance door, took a peek at the mountain with his binoculars. It was hard to see, but he could tell snow was moving up there. "Another Avalanche!" As soon as he spoke, I had to speak:

"Lucy!" The Earthquake stopped. I told the detective that Lucy was climbing the mountain to find Giselle; I told him that we were trying to find her because she went to find Damian. I showed him Giselle's letter to the detective, and he said: "I'll go to the mountain to find Lucy, but I won't climb, it is too dangerous to go up there."

That is what happened. The detective went to the entrance of the mountain, and this is what he found: Lucy was running down, falling, all shaken up and in shock, trembling and quivering with her eyes wide open. When she ran to him, she was shaking with so much fear, paranoia and anxiety that the detective was afraid and very cautious. But the strange thing was not her way of being, but what she was saying: "They're alive! They're alive! They're trapped! We must get them out! We need a rope! A shovel! They're alive! They're alive!" The detective drove her to the sheriff's office, which is not far from the mountain, and as soon as they arrived, Lucy entered in a rush to find me.

Lucy has always been sweet, caring and warm, with calmness and fragile sensitivity. When she came in the door of the sheriff's office, she looked like a lunatic: her hair was tangled, full of snow, she was pale, cold, trembling and she walked like a furious avalanche just made her roll near death. She ran to me and grabbed my hands through the bars, mumbling and stuttering like crazy: "Tim we have to go, we have to go, they're alive, they are there! Under the snow! We have to go! now! We need a rope and a shovel!"

What she was saying made sense, but the way she was saying killed all credibility. Most officers went to scan the town for assistance after the second earthquake. Only the detective and the sheriff stayed to try to understand what Lucy was saying. The sheriff brought her a warm blanket and sat her down. The detective brought her a cup of hot coffee: "Lucy, please, calm down, we want to understand. Tell us what happened."

This is what Lucy said:

"I climbed the mountain higher than the red flags, I thought Giselle could be farther from where they searched. I began to climb, and it was colder. The wind was stronger, and it was getting harder to see. I walked around and then I heard something! It was faint but I knew I did! The wind was blowing strong, so the sound came from in between! I closed my eyes to listen more closely and then I heard it again, it was music! It was Giselle's Violin!" The detective and the sheriff looked at each other when she said this, but she continued: "It was so strange, but I knew I was hearing something! I tried to follow the music and noticed something strange far from where I was: there was a small amount of snow as if someone was just digging it out. I ran to it and I knew it was Giselle, so I yelled: "Giselle!" But just in that moment, the mountain started to quake! So, I fell on the snow and crawled towards the hole while everything was trembling!" Lucy burst into tears in that moment, as if she was getting into some traumatic remembrances. The detective seemed to understand this. I was so intrigued to know what happened next, but I had a lot of feelings going through me too; empathy for Lucy and guilt for leaving her alone. But Lucy stopped crying and managed to continue with the story: "I crawled to the hole in the snow, and I peaked in. Giselle found the house! Somehow, she did! She dug the snow out of that spot and found the stone chimney!" She looked at me when she said this, because she knew I knew how the house looked. All four of us have been inside the house before, sitting near the fireplace as we listened to Damian's piano and Giselle's violin.

"Did you see inside the chimney?" The detective asked.

"Barely." Lucy answered. "Everything was trembling when I got there, I could listen to Giselle playing the Violin inside by the echo of the music! I looked inside but it was dark, I yelled 'Giselle!' but then I had to look up to see the snow coming..." Lucy began to cry again. I tried to hold her through the bars to comfort her. The sheriff and the detective now can understand why Lucy was the way she was, somehow, she ran down the mountain with the avalanche and managed to get out alive.

"It is a miracle she made it out of the mountain." The detective said to the sheriff. "I don't know how she did it, but she's here."

The detective got Lucy's attention so she could feel better. "Lucy, you are not in condition to go back to that mountain. We will go find them; do you hear me? But you have to stay here and rest."

"But how would you know where it is? Only I know where they are! Even now with more snow covering them!"

Lucy was right. She was the only one to know where they are, but also, she is the last person to want to go to the mountain. We knew she was going to come with us, but we had to wait for her to be more stabilized.

The doctor arrived. The sheriff had called him as soon as Lucy entered. He showed the doctor an office where he could check if Lucy had any serious injuries.

Meanwhile, I talked to the detective: "Jonathan." That was the detective's first name. "I don't mind spending whatever amount of time I have to pay by being in jail. But I implore you, please let me go to the mountain with you. I cannot leave Lucy alone again."

"You can set your mind at ease, Tim." The detective responded. "I will let you go. Billy said he won't press any charges and we all understand why you did what you did. And yes, you can come with us to the mountain, but that wouldn't be my greatest worry if I were you."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

The detective walked closer to me: "Your Lucy was just almost killed by an avalanche while she searched for her missing friend. Let's say we find the house, and we dig out snow to enter. How do you think she would feel if we don't arrive on time, and we find two corpses? Don't you think the disappointment would haunt her? What if Giselle found Damian's body and decided to die with him? I say you don't hold on to the hope that might crush you . . . I say . . . you don't tell her things you don't know, because it might crush her."

"If I know Lucy, I know one thing that will crush us both: the regret of never trying." I replied. "If it's their time, we will accept it, but I think we both want to dig through hell just for the chance of saving them. At least we can both live knowing we did our best . . . Look at us."

The detective nodded.

"I'll talk to the sheriff to gather volunteers."

As he walked away, I started contemplating about his point. He was speaking realistically: there was a possibility of finding them dead; for this story to have tragic ending. The Romeo & Juliet of Lestville, they would say. But I guess there was no other choice now, we had to go and find out how this story is going to end.

Regardless how it ends, I will protect Lucy and I'll never leave her alone again.

***

This is the first letter Damian wrote:

"To whomever finds this:

I'm Damian Haize. I do not know If I'm going to survive this, but if someone happens to find this letter, at least I can speak of what matters. Giselle, my love! I'm so sorry, I did not mean to argue with you. If you wanted to take more time for us to have a family, I was willing to wait, I just was too eager for that to happen, I love you so much.

I'm grateful that you were not here when the earthquake happened; when the snow came down. If I don't survive, at least I can die thinking that you are safe. If you read this, I hope you believe me when I say that you deserve to live a long and happy life, even if I'm not there with you.

Eternally yours,

Damian"

***

Part III

Only an hour had passed, and the detective already came back with nine volunteers. When they entered the sheriff's office, I could tell they were already prepared with all the gear. They had ropes, shovels, flashlights and other things inside bags that I don't know. As the volunteers waited around the door, the detective came to talk to me: "Are you ready to go up there?"

"Yes." I said. I was thinking that we were talking too long already, but I was still behind bars.

The doctor came back with Lucy and the sheriff. "Lucy, how are you feeling?" I asked, but she just walked to me to grab my hands as the doctor answered: "She has some minor bruises but no major injuries; nothing serious. I would just recommend staying in a warm atmosphere and resting. The mountain has been really unstable lately, it's no place for a lady."

"Thank you, Doctor, but I will rest when I find my friends." Lucy replied.

The doctor raised his eyebrows while looking down; "What can I tell you lady. Good luck." The detective accompanied the doctor to the door.

The sheriff came to me, and then he said: "Tim, I’m going to let you out, so you can join the search, but I want you to promise me that you won't be doing anything foolish now."

"No, sir. I won't. I promise." I responded. "Lucy and I just want to find our friends."

"I want you back here when you come down from the mountain, with or without your friends, do you hear me? I want you to make your peace with Billy when my officers come back. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. I will."

"Alright then." The sheriff got his keys and went to open the jail door for me. "Don't make me regret this boy, I know where you live."

"Thank you, Sheriff. Thank you." As soon as I got out, I hugged Lucy like I wanted to hug her; like she needed to be hugged.

"Lucy, will you be alright going up the mountain again?" I asked her.

"Yes. Let's go find them." She said. "I know where they are."

***

This is Damian's second letter:

"To whomever finds this:

I’ve been observing around the house to see where I should try to dig myself out, but I am limited. When the avalanche struck the house, the snow got in from most windows, shattering all the glass. It also blocked the front and the back door. When the earthquake began, I was playing piano, so I hid under it. The big window over me was the most vulnerable one; the snow broke in and fell straight onto the piano, the impact broke one of its legs. The piano fell on my right leg and then I was buried with all the snow. Luckily, I managed to get out from under all that snow, but my leg still hurts. I find it ironically poetic that it was the right leg of the piano that broke, and it is my right leg that got hurt. I don't know if my leg is broken or not, but I cannot walk that easily. It kills me to see the piano broken under all that snow.

Everything was pitch black when I got out from under the snow. It felt as if I was still trapped under it. I found the flashlight and I've been using it to look around. I have enough batteries. There's snow everywhere in the house. It feels like everything is frozen in time.

With my leg hurt, I can't walk, so I crawled to the front door, opened it and started digging meticulously to create a tunnel. Unfortunately, the three times I tried have gotten me not too far: there seems to be more snow above that falls and blocks my tunnel. I went to the back door to try the same, but it faces the mountain so I figured there would be even more snow blocking my escape. I grabbed the knob of the back door and it was freezing; it feels like it is blocking more snow wanting to go in.

A few hours ago, I tried the fireplace, the stone chimney goes up to the highest point of the house so I thought it might be my best chance. There is a lot of snow coming out of it so there's much digging to do. I have enough canned food, but I am worried about oxygen. It is a big house, so I think I have time to breathe for a long time, but I don't know how long. I've been using hot water to keep myself warm.

I have been using the shovel to dig out snow from the chimney for hours, but it is uncomfortable when I can only do it sitting down. The pain in my leg doesn't let me stand up. I don't know how I am going to climb up the chimney, but for now I'm just focused on digging out the snow to see my way out. Every time I take a break I turn to the piano and see it there, buried under the snow, why do I think that so poetic?

Now I'm taking a break and eating something. I decided to write this letter to inform of my situation here just in case I don't manage to get out. I feel like I will. The hope of seeing Giselle again is what keeps me going. Hopefully, this won't be the last letter. I trust God and his mysterious ways. I will pray now before I sleep a few hours; I must regain my strength to keep digging.

If I don't make it, I leave all my possessions to Giselle. She has my heart and soul. My love for her is the hope I have get out alive. I sure hope to God I get to see her again.

Good night.

Damian."

***

Lucy, Jonathan, the nine men who volunteered, and I headed to the mountain. The sheriff stayed to manage his officers and other things happening around town.

When we arrived, the detective took the lead: "Lucy found the spot where the house is, so we will climb and follow her. The second avalanche sent another wave of snow. We don't know how much more snow came down, but I guess we will see it when we reach the red flags we left last time."

That is what happened. We climbed up the mountain again till we reached the red flags. I held Lucy with my arms all the way up. We were all trembling because it was cold, but I think she was also afraid of going up here again.

As we walked, I couldn't stop thinking about what Jonathan said. I guess he has a more realistic point of view for being a detective, but still, I had to contemplate about what he said. The worst scenario would be that both are dead, this would be terrible for Lucy and me, even for the world. However, there's also the scenario where only Damian is dead, and Giselle, who must have found him, decided to stay with him. Yet, I don't know if that is the worst. Giselle would have to accept the fact that he is gone, and she would have to continue living without him. Every time I think of them, I hold Lucy closer and tighter, I do not want to lose her. I thought I lost her when the second earthquake passed; I took that as a wake up call to appreciate how much I care for her.

We reached the red flags, or at least the area where the red flags were. Some of them were buried halfway, others were already under snow. Jonathan took out a map of the mountain: they had marked where they had placed the red flags last time. We all looked at the map. It seemed that half of the area they have searched was covered again. Lucy pointed on the map where she thought she was last time.

We placed a snow stake next to a red flag that we could identify on the map, and from there we tied a rope to walk uphill with it. We placed a snow stake every 30 meters, which kept the rope steady. This was Jonathan's idea, he didn't want to say anything about the possibility of another avalanche, but we did take precautions.

We walked uphill and Lucy suddenly stopped, looking around. "It was around here." We all separated a few feet away and started digging with shovels. We only had a couple of hours before sunset, so we had to find them by then.

***

This is Damian's third and last letter:

"To Whomever find this:

At first wake, I continued digging the snow out of the chimney. I also connected a hose from the bathroom so I can use hot water to let the snow melt down. I dug out most of the snow out, but there's more I can't reach up inside the chimney. I've been trying to reach that snow with the hot water, but I think there's much more above. Now I'm eating something before I try to start climbing up the chimney to keep digging the snow. With the leg hurt, I'm sure it will hurt, but I must try.

I still turn to look at the piano dead under the snow. It looks so still. Everything inside the house looks so still. The clock on the wall is ticking, but I can't tell if it is night or day by the absence of light. I know time is passing, but it doesn't feel like it is.

I won't write anymore letters; I think I have said everything I wanted to communicate. I'm still cold, but I won't go hungry. I might just run out of oxygen if I don't manage to dig up the chimney. We'll see.

I want to thank everyone for being in my life. I'm grateful for everything. Above all, I'm grateful for Giselle, she was the love of my life and my muse. I wouldn't have found so much music in me if it weren't for her, and how she plays the violin. I'll love you forever.

Sincerely,

Damian."

***

The sun was hiding, and we were still looking. Many red flags have been placed around. The growing silence reflected our fears when the first word was spoken; it was from Jonathan: "Friends. Night is falling. I do not say that we surrender. I say we go down, rest and continue tomorrow. We have done all we can today."

Lucy looked at me; her eyes could say what words couldn't. None of us said much as we walked down the mountain. We all agreed to meet here at the entrance at dawn. Lucy went to her house to sleep.

I passed by the sheriff's office to clear my offense with him and with Billy. We cleared out the air as I apologized, and there wasn't much more to say about that. However, the sheriff told me something that stroke me the most: he said the people of Lestville has been asking about Damian & Giselle, some said the world will not be the same without their music, others said that they will be praying for them and soon they will be found. Most say that they deserve to be saved by what they have brought to the world together. The preacher from the church said answers will be coming soon, that we just must be persistent and patient.

Lestville has been changing since the first earthquake. The people experienced something they never expected. When we saw snow fall from the mountain, we knew this meant change. The people of Lestville always believe there's a solution for everything, that is a quality we hold in our town. When the first search party went to the mountain to find Damian, everyone believed that he would be found that same day. But after the third day of not finding him, the people seemed to be holding their breath, as if time has been frozen. And now, with Giselle, everything feels odd, as if there's a play from God we are not seeing.

From the sheriff's office, I went directly to Lucy's house so she wouldn't be alone. We did not speak much. Lucy and I held in each other from not knowing what tomorrow would bring. Our actions said much more than what we wanted; our silence covered all the words we could speak from fear. This story has certainly brought us together; it felt as we were already married, and we were going to stay together no matter what. She has a small altar where she prayed that night. I am not much into religion, but I believe. That night, I did talk to God.

Next day, we met at dawn at the entrance to the mountain. Some officers were there to guard the gate; people from town had been coming to want to join, but the sheriff was right, the mountain was too dangerous.

As we climbed, I noticed some of us didn't show a sign of hope in their faces. I think digging snow yesterday had dimmed us to think how little we knew about forces that can shape our lives. The snow seemed to have cooled our sense of urgency; yesterday felt like we held the empathic compassion to go against an avalanche for them with our hearts, today we hold that commitment with our minds.

We arrived to the same spot and used the reference of our red flags to keep searching. As I was digging the snow, I was thinking of how right it was for me to write this story. Whether they are alive or not, most people of Lestville know about Giselle & Damian because of their music. They know Damian has been trapped inside the house for four days. And now they know Giselle came to look for him before the second avalanche. Their story has brought people closer; they have reflected me how short life can be, and I shouldn't have to wait anymore to tell Lucy how much I love her. It wouldn’t be a be happy story if we came down the mountain with tragic news, but the fact that I’m up here digging is what makes me take on the responsibility to write their story.

I was thinking of all this while digging in the cold, and then:

"Here it is!" Lucy yelled. She found the house again. She dropped the shovel to the side and started digging with her hands. We all ran to her to see how the stone chimney was being revealed. She started to get the snow from inside the hole of the chimney, which was blocked again from the second avalanche, but it was not too much. She used her foot to push the thick snow to reveal the clean hole of the dark chimney, and then she called to her friends, expecting to hear a response:

"Giselle! Damian!"

***

Part IV

This is Giselle's last letter:

"Dear World:

Love in the dark.

As if there was any Light that could shine brighter. I sit here, watching my lover sleep. We are trapped by this cold darkness, yet we feel warm with the fire of our hearts.

How can I explain? For our hearts are brightest when together. Since we have met, we have merged into a cup. It feels like an essence of a Violet color; like Heaven and Hell together; burning red with fire and raining blue with water.

The people of Lestville would think of me insane, to have climbed on the mountain on my own, to look for him digging in the snow, and to died here with him.

Well, if being in love shares a similar path to insanity, then yes, I must be so, insane, that is, and I’m proud of it.

Perhaps if you could understand who I am, how I feel, and how much I love, you would not consider me so. However, that is impossible, for not even I understand it.

He brings forth my better half, and at his absence, my worst. This is how he feels too, he told me so.

And then there’s the music; how can a composer even grasp this music if it were not for the passion that burns inside of us. It just keeps us ignited in fire to do more; play it with our souls. Damian and I have read what people wrote to us about our music, and we are really proud of it; we are very happy to share it with the world.

We believe it is nighttime. I found a sunken hole in the snow when I climbed on the mountain this afternoon. Damian has done much digging, enough open a way to breathe, but his leg didn't let him climb out.

Damian has so happy to see me, he could not believe that I was descending from the chimney when I did. When we hugged the consonant sound rang in us again; it has been a nightmare melody these days apart. Neither of us could continue living like this. We could not live apart, but now that we are together, we would die in peace if it is our time.

He was desperate to get out just to see me, but now he says he feels at peace. I know we cannot not climb together out with his leg like this, so I calmed him down. I told him that I left a letter to Tim and Lucy, and they were right behind me. They will find us sooner than we think. And that was very foolish of me to say, for I never took in considering the forces we cannot control, or even the plays of fate.

I took care of his leg with what I could find, then we talked and laughed as if we were already out. We agreed to wait for an hour before trying to get out on our own; that was the plan: I was to climb out the chimney with a rope and then pull him out. We were worried that he was going to be too heavy for me to lift him up, so with Tim and Lucy it would be easier. That is why we decided to wait.

I heard you Lucy, if you find this letter before you find us alive let me tell you that I heard you when you called my name, before the second avalanche buried us here. And, just in case, I say to you that yes, you heard a violin if that is how you found me. As we waited, Damian told me that he could not die in peace if he did not hear me play the violin one more time, so that is why I did. I played for him the tune he wrote for me. He stared at me with those eyes of his. And then . . .

Then, I heard your voice through the chimney calling my name and everything started trembling, I ran to see our way out, but snow was already coming down from it. The snow trapped us in again. Much of what Damian had dug out was blocked with the second avalanche.

You believe in God, Lucy. What does he say about this? Are we being punished? Is this a test he is making us face to prove our love?

What does God has to say about the two avalanches? One to set us apart, and another to set us up together, apart from the world.

I see Damian’s piano buried in snow. He said it is somewhat poetic, and I agree. From it, we talked about an idea we want to do musically for Lestville, that is, if we get out from here, of course. I feel lucky to be here with him. I know it may sound ironic to say so, but it is true. He said he would have done the same if I were his situation, but he jokingly said he would have died digging to find me. I love him so much.

So to God I say Love in the dark. Let him see us here under the snow never losing hope. Let us see us dig out way out again to prove how much we thrive to live. And together, create a family.

I write this letter with a future unknown by the forces that shape us, but to our will we will continue to dig out to our last breath. Whether we can get out or not, at least I leave this letter as a prove to our legacy; that sometimes the harmony of our lives have dissonant sounds, but it is up to us to see the Beauty of its music.

Love,

Giselle."

***

Part V

There have been moments in my life, where I could see my future hanging up in a single second. When Lucy called on to our friends through the echoing cold chimney; “Giselle! Damian!” that second appeared.

In that moment, the story of Giselle & Damian flashed before my eyes, it reflected me to contemplate how we tend to take things for granted:

Who knows when will be the last time you will see your loved ones?

Who knows when will be the last time you can hug them?

Who knows when will be the last time you will see them smile?

The echo of Lucy resonated to my past and to my future. In that moment, I held my breath the same way the people of Lestville have been holding on their breath in this story.

Thank God they answered: “Lucy!” Giselle responded from inside the house, holding a flashlight. “I knew you would find us! Timothy! Good to see you both!”

“Giselle! I'm so happy to see you too!” Lucy said. “Where’s Damian? Is he with you?!”

“Yes, he’s here with me. He hurt his leg, but he’s alright.”

Thanks to Jonathan and the volunteers we set up some ropes to pull them out as quickly as possible. We pulled out Damian first so Giselle would help him from below.

Once out, Damian and I hugged as soul brothers. "It's so good to see you Damian." I said to him as I helped him stand with one leg. "Timothy.” He replied with relief. “I couldn’t be happier to see you.”

After Giselle was pulled out of the chimney, Jonathan shot a flare up to the sky toward Lestville; it was a green light. We turned to him and he said, “An ambulance will be waiting for us when we come down the mountain.”

Lucy walked with Giselle down the mountain while we all carried Damian as best as we could.

There were so many people at the foot of the mountain, all cheering with signs and applause; all very happy to see Giselle & Damian alive. “We prayed for your return!” Some said, "The musicians of Lestville are alive!" others said.

Giselle & Damian were so happy to see the whole town there for them. They felt cherished and treasured. They waved to the good people as we all got in the ambulance to go to the hospital.

Damian's injury on his leg was cured in a couple of months. Giselle never left his side during that time.

Each one has his/her own interpretation of why this happened, but these two musicians expressed their idea of why this happened in a very special musical event 1 year later. But before I tell you about that, let me tell you some preparations that happened before.

After the incident, Damian invited some specialists from out of town, and they did some exclusive investigations on the mountain of Lestville. It seems these earthquakes and avalanches were very rare, and they don’t think it will happen again.

Damian is a very wealthy man; he did not let his house be buried in the snow. He hired a team to dig out most of the house and redesign it for this special musical event.

Lucy and I began our relationship days after this incident, the celebration of Giselle & Damian let us begin on a good note and we have been very happy since then. We are planning to get married, but it seems like Giselle & Damian want to get married first since they cannot wait. We are happy for them. I will be Damian’s best man and Lucy will be Giselle’s maid of honor, we’ll return the honor at our wedding as well.

I told them I had begun to write this story about them, and they were happy to tell us details of what I didn't know. They even gave me the letters they wrote to include them. Giselle said she wrote some poetry about it too, but I’m not including it here because it might mislead the narrative; her poetry is beautiful, it deserves its own space. Damian said music is his only outlet.

Giselle & Damian's house up on the mountain was redesigned to be protected from avalanches, even if it is very unlikely that it was to happen again. It was modified to blend in with the snow around for a very artistic and unique design; its beauty goes beyond description. Nobody was able to see the house while they were working on it, but it was open on the day of a special musical event. These musicians prepared something unique for the people of Lestville: everyone was invited to the house for free for the music symphony premiere of: "Snow."

On the premiere day of this special musical event, I went with Lucy as part of the audience. We couldn't believe the modifications that were done to the house, it looked like a mansion now and the snow around its exterior walls seemed to be part of the design.

After everyone came in, the doors were shut very securely from the cold outside. There was a whole orchestra ready with flutes, French horns and clarinets. Giselle & Damian presented themselves and expressed how their incident inspired them to compose this new music; they wanted to share it with the people of Lestville as a sign of gratitude for their support. Damian was going to play the piano and Giselle the violin. However, they explained why they preferred to do this special musical event here:

The house was redesigned with two unique hallways that extend around the mountain. From the house, one hallway goes left and the other goes right, they connect in a circle as they round the mountain of Lestville, through the snow. They said that when they were trapped inside the house, they could listen to how music sounded different in a cold close environment, and how, with low temperature, sound travels slower. This gave them the idea of designing these two hallways that will echo the music and mix with time in a particular sense.

I cannot describe how magical the music of "Snow" was, they played the instruments with their echoes; it felt as if the messages of music they were sending first were harmonized with the music of the present as they arrived through the hallways in later time. This was music that could only be listened to in this house. There has never been anything like it.

On a personal note, the composition of their music inspired me to use their metaphor as the poetry of a letter. For you see, for me, the writing of a letter communicates the same effect of the echoes of music; the reader who reads the letter is connecting to the voice of the writer when it was written. While my friends celebrate the connection to the past with music, I celebrate it with literature by writing this story.

Now, I will finish this story the same way I found how to finish it:

It was a couple of months after the incident. I told my friends I was writing this story, but I did not know how to end it. If you are a writer, you would understand that if a story is based on real life, there must be some kind of closure in the arc for the story to end, but since our friendship has been continuous, there was an element missing. Lucy and Damian did not know how they could help, but Giselle did; she, being a poet herself, told me to accompany her to the cemetery, and she would tell me something that might help me finish the story.

Giselle and I went to the cemetery one afternoon. I was full of intrigue, for I did not know what it could mean, I assumed it would be a reflection about death and how close she and Damian were to it, but it was something else entirely.

She took me to a grave that marked "Madame Helena." I did not know who it was, so I asked her. But Giselle answered me with a question:

"Timothy, do you remember when we were kids?"

"Yes, of course." I replied.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this story, Lucy, Giselle and I have known each other since kids; we grew up together in Lestville, so there are many memories we hold dear.

"Do you remember that Valentine's when you and Lucy accompanied me to a palm reader?"

It took me some time to remember, but I did. "Yes, I remember. It was the night that this boy Justin made you cry; we went with you to the palm reader and you felt better because she told you things you'd never forget."

"And I never did." Giselle said. "Madame Helena was the palm reader. She was a lone woman, with no family, but she was known in town for reading palms and helping people. I was barely a teenager when she read my hand, but I wrote down what she told me because I wanted to see if it became true."

"What did she say?" I asked.

"I was heartbroken that day, so I asked about my love life. This is what she told me:"

Giselle took a paper from her pocket and read:

~ I see a great love in your future, you will meet a man who will share your passions, and this union will expand to great things on a grand scale. But, there is a catch, there is a play of fate which will test your love. Take action for the things that you want, but also be attentive to see the signs of fate. You cannot change the things that happen to you, but you can use those experiences to grow on forward. Remember that there are always greater forces that shape our circumstances, the key is to be wise enough to flow with them, wait with them, trust in the story, and choose what you feel to be right. ~

I was numb to hear the words from the palm reader. They might not be specific to the incident, but they were aligned in the essence of what happened.

"When Damian was missing," Giselle said, "I thought I had to be patient and wait, but when I decided to take action to find him that is when the story began. It was not until later, when Damian and I were trapped in the house that I realized that I had to wait, and trust in the story."

Giselle stepped forward and left a white rose on Madame Helena's grave. "We might have not been close, but your words did help me through this incident. Thank you."

Giselle and I walked through the cemetery, in awe to the grand scale of things and the greater forces. And thinking, how the people of Lestville have had so many stories through the years. Even if we might never know how much we affect each other, we do.

I came to think of how things play in the orchestra of life, and how the familiar sounds and words do take us back to the past as we remember; it is in those memories that which inspire us to the future.

Lucy, Giselle and I have so many stories here in Lestville, we have seen the people here grow as the town has been changing through time, but our friendships have grown every day, and that has not changed.

So, with this, I finish "The Story of Giselle & Damian," for the people of Lestville. I'm very grateful to have written their story, for their love has taught us so much.

Thank you

The End

***

"The Story of Giselle & Damian"

Written by Facundo Raganato

Inspired by the song "Letters"

www.TheCharactersShortLivingStory.com