Diljá Valsdóttir

On an August midday, somewhere in the remote vastness of rural Iceland, sixteen-year-old Baldur, son of Karl and Droplaug, is attending the fields of the family's milk farm, riding a tractor. From afar, his eleven-year-old sister, Hera, is happily playing on her own, carefree. Little does she know, that this is maybe her last share of happiness, because everything is about to change, when all of a sudden, innocent Hera, witnesses the tragic accident that led to the gruesome death of her brother. On his funeral, the loss of her faith is inevitable and with unquenched rage, she rebels against God, leaving the congregation in tears of grief and despair. The years go by and Hera permeated with the vivid memory of Baldur that pulsates in every corner of the house, is still deeply missing him. Closed to herself, alienated with no friends and interests, Hera quickly drags herself into a dreary, dead-end of a life, troubled and suicidal. Still blaming God for the injustice and fencing off any attempts at reconciliation from the local priest, she embraces her brother's lifestyle and delves into the new music movement of Black Metal that gives Hera a new meaning in her life. Unable to let time heal her wounds and achingly craving for a closure, will Hera grasp in time that she cannot keep wallowing in grief because grief is a monster and it will eat her up?