Afraid of Nothing by Olga Guniavaia

Jerry has been standing in the rain
for the second hour. Thoughts flow strangely slowly, and there is a bur in the throat. Rain mixes with tears – so classic. Nothing original.
A little later, chilled to the bone, Jerry sits in an armchair on the balcony of his house. The photograph in his hands laughs soundlessly, the blue eyes sparkle fervently. Jerry smiles through the tears and tries not to blink. He doesn’t give a damn that the veil covers his eyes; he knows that if he closes them for at least a second, he will die. Without those damned blue eyes and trills of laughter, he would simply crumble into a hundred lights and disappear. Forever.
After that day – Jerry cannot say “her death,” because it would mean that he’s made is mind to it (which is not the case) – the awareness of loneliness came. He had been alone indeed, lost in the ocean of his thoughts. And at that moment when he moored to the shore where she was waiting for him – he himself pushed off the pier.
It is his fault.
The hands are shaky. For some reason they did not tremble then. When she was dying, he didn’t feel anything at all. Why the hell didn't he feel anything?!
Nevertheless, screaming makes no sense.
When he put her in the grave, the whole world collapsed, without making a sound. It swept him away, left and disappeared. Poof! – like a soap bubble.
She was like a fairy which would fly away at any moment. Disappear. Her ginger hair resembled the sky at sunset into which she would one day escape from him. Forever.
When Jerry met her, his first thought was something like “What kind of noisy girl is this?”. Now he is sure that if he suddenly hears her voice somewhere, he will lose his mind. Because – yes – he hears it. And he turns around every time, praying to heaven to give her to him – and realizes that he is slowly losing his mind.
More and more madness creeps into his head. He sees her reflection in the shop windows, hears her whispers near his ear, and then her distant laugh. And a lot of other things, well-known and completely unexpected.
He surely deserves it. After all, she is not there – and it is his fault.
Outside the window the rain unsuccessfully tries to destroy the smell of burning, and Jerry's pain, but these two things are already far underneath his skin. Drops knock loudly, randomly, and Jerry can hear a soft whisper: dead. Dead, dead, dead...
If he could rip out his heart, he probably would have done so. He would put it in a box and watch it melt slowly in the guilt. But this is definitely some kind of nonsense.
Therefore, Jerry just locks himself up on the balcony, puts a mirror in front of himself and watches her in it for hours. He has definitely lost his mind, so be it – as long as she’s still with him.
As long as his daughter is with him, he is afraid of nothing.