Denmark
another smile, another laugh. Loud and obnoxious, that was the Freja they knew, that was the girl they wanted to hang out with.
Her friends had dragged her out to a bar, it's been a year they reasoned, Ingrid wouldn't want you to be sad forever. But, the pain was still there, the loss came back with every glimpse of the jagged pink scar across her stomach.
Her friends didn't seem to understand that no matter how many times Freja smiled or laughed she was still hurting, she was still sad. They didn't see the smile didn't reach her eyes or that the laughter was echoes of what it used to be.
She finished her beer, relishing the buzz the alcohol left behind. She planned to be quite drunk by the end of the night, it was the only way she could keep up the charade of happiness.
One of her friends tugged on her arm asking her to come out onto the dance floor. Freja didn't want to, but would've before so she went. The music was loud standard club music, the beat pulsing through the crowd like a heartbeat that the club moved to.
It was mind numbing and for a few minutes she didn't need to think about life or loss. The music just drove away all thoughts and allowed her to focus on her alcohol buzz. And, for just a moment, her soul felt lighter and her heart didn't hurt so much.
As the song finished she floated on the light feeling for as long as possible before the sadness came flowing back, filling her soul with a heaviness which dragged her back down to reality. Disappointed it hadn't lasted she stumbled back to the bar and ordered another round.
It was a few minutes later when the bartender found her passed out on the counter and, not being able to rouse her, instructed her friends to take her to the hospital.