Page 2 of Fighting the Darkness

I bite my lip as tears fill my eyes once more. Doesn’t she know I’m trying? I’m doing the best I can, but it’s hard to live with only half of my soul. Without Freyr here... I just feel incomplete. Broken. Especially since I know we all wish I would’ve been the one to die instead of Freyr.

Freyr and I were in our last semester of our final year at Westwood University when we were taken. We were walking through the parking lot to his car when a van pulled up and jerked us inside. They must have drugged me because the next thing I knew, I was lying in a bed beside Freyr. He’d obviously been beaten, but when I did a quick survey of my body, I realized I hadn’t been. It took me forever to wake Freyr, and that’s when things really started getting fun.

In those first few days, I never saw the faces of the men who kidnapped us, but they sure did love to run their mouths. One of them let it slip that it had been the Fitzgerald family who kidnapped us, and that they were holding us for ransom. Apparently, my dad had screwed over the head of the family, and he wanted to recoup his losses. I’d been so sure that he’d pay the ransom quickly, and we’d be returned home. Freyr hadn’t been nearly as hopeful as me, and it turned out he was right.

My dad refused to pay the ransom, and they took out their anger on my brother. They beat him every day that my dad refused to pay, but left me untouched. Until I couldn’t take it anymore. I was tired of watching them hurt my brother and I ran my mouth. I’d ended up on my back with a heavy body atop mine as they choked me, but I managed to tear his mask off. His was the first face I saw, but not the last. Between that and what followed, my sleep has been disrupted with nightmares of those moments.

Freyr had pulled the man off me and stolen his gun. Before he could shoot the man, one of the other men shot him. The man who shot him pushed up his mask, smirking as he winked at me—actually winked. I pulled Freyr into my arms, holding him as the life bled from his eyes.

They left me alone in that room with his dead body for two days. I figured they were leaving me there to die as well, but eventually the door opened and armed men spilled into the room. I would later learn that it was a SWAT team. Seamus Fitzgerald had sent an apology to my dad along with an address.

I was rescued, but part of me was left behind in that room where my brother died.

“I don’t want to talk to anyone. I tried that right after I came home. Do you remember how that went?” I shake my head, not wanting to think about it, but it’s clear my mom needs a reminder.

She winces, drawing her hand away from mine to run it over her face. She doesn’t like me to remind her of how I tried to kill myself, and failed, after speaking with a psychologist. How even hearing about the events, thinking about them, had sent me over the edge. I’d come home and swallowed a deadly combination of pills so I could find my way back to my brother’s side.

Only, my mom had found me not too long after I’d taken the pills and they were able to save me. I’m still not sure if I’m pissed or grateful.

After that incident, my mom has hovered.

I feel a lot of guilt from those first few months. Not just because I survived while my brother didn’t, but because of what I’d almost put my mom through. She’d already lost one child, and I almost threw it all away and taken her only remaining child from her.

I wish I could say that the thought never crosses my mind now, but that would be a lie. My mind is a dark and twisted place, and it’s really hard sometimes to ignore the voices telling me it would be easier if I just ended it all.

“Obviously, Dr. Allen wasn’t the right fit. We can find you someone else to see.” There’s a desperation in my mom’s voice, and I know she’s worried about me, but it won’t sway me from my decision. I already know there isn’t a damn person in the world that can help me conquer my inner demons.

“I’m sorry, Mom, but no. I don’t want to see any more doctors. I don’t want any more drugs. I’m sorry that my grief is making your life harder. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to just get over it like everyone thinks I should, but this is my reality right now. Most days, I can’t drag myself out of the bed to do more than use the bathroom. I don’t know how to live without Freyr in it. I’m missing half of my soul, and everyone thinks I should just move on. That’s not going to happen.” I shake my head. “Do you think I like being like this? Because I can promise you, I don’t.”

“Then why won’t you let me get you help?” she cries out, her tears now spilling down her cheeks.

I reach over to cup her face in my hand, trying to wipe away some of her tears, but they’re unending. “I love you, Mom. More than you can ever know. I’ve appreciated your support over the last six months, but this isn’t about you. This is about me. I’m doing the best I can, and you need to accept that. If you can’t, then I don’t know what comes next. But I’m not going to put myself through that again. Dr. Allen made things worse than before I started seeing him, and now I have to recover from that as well. I know you mean well, but you can’t help fix me.”

Mom lays her hand on mine as she stares at me. Neither of us moves for a few minutes, but eventually, she nods. “Okay, Freya. But you’ll let me know if you change your mind? Or if there’s anything I can do?”

“I promise.” I force myself to smile, though it likely looks more like a grimace, and it hurts my face. Obviously, I haven’t had much to smile about since Freyr’s death, and this is the first time I’ve even tried.

“Okay, Freya. I love you. Try to get some sleep.”

I hum, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her statement, even though I know there’s no way I’ll be going back to sleep tonight. If I do, there’s a chance I’ll drop back into my nightmares, and I can’t handle that more than once a night. It’s part of the reason I haven’t been sleeping.

I settle back onto the bed as my mom stands up, giving me a sad smile before heading for the door.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. Now, I just need to make it through the next few hours, and then it’ll be daylight again. I might try sleeping after the sun comes up. The nightmares seem to come less during the day, and I definitely need to sleep. Now, I just need to find something to keep my mind occupied until then.

I used to love to read—smutty books were my jam—but I haven’t been able to pick up a book since Freyr’s death. I’ve been turning to mindless television shows and movies, and I know tonight won’t be any different.

Rolling back to my side, I grab the remote off my nightstand and turn on the television. Flipping through channels, I stop on the first movie I find,Rocky. It had been one of Freyr’s favorites because he’s been obsessed with fighting since we were kids. There’s a small pain in my chest at the thought of watching it, but it’s something I can deal with. As long as I don’t think about that night, I can usually handle the pangs of pain.

I settle into the bed and lose myself to the movie, imagining that Freyr is watching with me.

Chapter Two

Freya

Thesunishighin the sky when I wake up. I’m not sure when I fell asleep, but the movie had still been playing so I hadn’t made it to sunrise. But I didn’t jerk awake from any nightmares either, so that’s a plus.

Sitting up, I stretch my arms over my head, arching my back. I grab my phone, my eyes bugging out of my head when I see that it’s after three in the afternoon. Apparently, my body really needed sleep.

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