Page 1 of Fighting the Darkness

Chapter One

Freya

Ican’tbreathe.

I claw at the hands wrapped around my throat, but they’re too strong. I can’t make them stop.

My hand swipes across their face, pulling the mask free, and for the first time, I see the monster.

Black dots flicker to life at the edge of my vision, and I know I’m done for. This is it.

Then the person is gone, no weight holding me down as I gasp for air.

What happened? I don’t understand.

BANG!

I jerk awake, my screams piercing the air around me as I claw at my chest. My heart is pounding as I try to remember where I am.

It takes longer than it should for my screams to quiet and for me to realize I’m in my bed. I’m home. I’m not there anymore.

The door to my room flies open, slamming against the wall and startling me. “What the hell?”

Both of my parents run into the room, eyes wide as they blink away the sleep I’ve torn them from. As often as this happens, they know they will find no physical threat, but that doesn’t keep them from running in every time. This threat is all in my head—it’s my mind that’s the threat. No matter how much they want to, they can’t protect me from myself.

“This is getting out of control,” my dad barks, shaking his head as my mom moves over to sit beside meq on the bed. She pulls me into her arms as my dad continues spewing his shit. “It’s been six months. You shouldn’t still be waking up with nightmares and disturbing your mother and me. It’s bad enough that you barely sleep, but you have to make sure that neither of us do either? You have to move on with your life like the two of us have done. You can’t keep pretending like life doesn’t exist. You’re alive, and it’s damn well time you acted like it.”

“Shut up, Erik,” my mom hisses, her tone biting as she glares at him. “Just go back to bed, and I’ll help our daughter.”

Seven or eight months ago, my mom would never have spoken to my dad like this, but a lot has changed during that time. My dad looks like he wants to say more as his eyes fall on me, but I just ignore him as I always do. I’ve only spoken to him once in the last six months, and I have zero plans to speak to him again. If I could leave this house and never see him again, I’d probably be happier. But I can’t do that to my mom, and, if I’m honest, I don’t think I can handle being on my own.

My mom pulls me into her arms, and I melt into her as tears stream down my face. Finally, I can breathe—at least somewhat. Sobs fill the room as my mom runs her hands up and down my back. “It’s okay, honey. Just let it all out.”

I wish I could stop crying. I wish I could stop having nightmares. There are a lot of things I wish were true, but the one wish I know I can never have is the one I so desperately want.

I wish my twin, Freyr, was still alive.

I’d give anything to make it happen if I could.

Finally, the sobs stop, and the flow of my tears begin to ebb. I don’t think a day has gone by over the last six months that I haven’t cried. One would think I’d run out of tears eventually, but I never seem to. They just keep coming and coming, the only outlet for the pain I feel inside.

“Another nightmare?” my mom asks quietly.

I just nod, unable to say it out loud. My mom sighs, squeezing my hand in hers.

“About that night?”

Another nod.

I mean, what else would I have nightmares about? There isn’t anything in the world more traumatizing than watching your twin be murdered because he put himself between you and someone intent on harming—or possibly killing—you.

“I’m worried about you, Freya. You know me and your dad don’t agree on much right now, but it has been six months. You know I haven’t pushed you because I know it’s different for you. I may have lost a child, but you lost your twin.” Tears fill my mom’s eyes before she looks away, trying to hide them from me—she’s always trying to hide her pain from me as if it could make mine any worse. “But I think it’s time you see someone. This isn’t healthy. You don’t sleep. You barely eat. You haven’t left the house in over a month, and before that, the only time I could get you out of the house is if I dragged you out. You don’t speak to anyone—not even me or your dad.”

“You know why I don’t talk to him,” I bite out, clenching my jaw as she nods slowly in understanding.

After all, my dad is the reason my brother is dead. Why would I talk to the man who is the reason my twin is dead? He’s just as dead to me as Freyr is, and it’s time he accepts that. If only he’d paid the ransom, then maybe Freyr would be here at my side as I woke up night after night, screaming. But he’s not here with me, and he never will be again.

Mom licks her lips. “I think talking to someone could help you with dealing with not only what happened to you, but what you’re feeling toward your father. I know you blame him for what happened—even I did at first—but this isn’t healthy. You can’t continue like this. We can’t continue like this.”

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