Season VI
Day IV
"It Was Only a Dream"
As their hands clasp tightly, it's hard to tell where the young girl's shaking stops and Freya's own begins.
She blinks the tears back just enough, but almost immediately has to look away. It won't stop. Freya's own hands are covered in more blood than she's ever seen in her life. Shreds of both of their clothing litter the ground, soaked through until it's impossible to tell what colour they're supposed to be. Even now Divya's stomach still gushes. Her entire torso is red.
Freya shakes her head. She doesn't know what to do. Until the moment Divya's hand gripped hers, she felt like she was doing something. It wasn't stopping, but she had something to focus on. Freya remembers the first aid course she took before summer camp. She knows that pressure stops bleeding. Except she never learned what to do when it doesn't.
Divya's hand in hers feels like giving up. Looking at her now, her tan cheeks turned a shade of grey that looks positively unnatural, everything leading up to now feels so pointless.
I was never going to fix it.
"Thank you," Divya whispers.
Freya shakes her head. She doesn't know what she's supposed to say. She knows she did everything she could think of but it's nowhere near enough. Freya squeezes her eyes shut but the tears slip easily past her eyelids. She isn't even strong enough to look at her friend.
Stories always helped. Ever since Freya could remember, they were where her mind retreated when it could no longer take in what was happening. On the nights she hid in her closet waiting for the screaming to stop, her stories kept her company. Except even as a new one starts to take shape, Freya can only think of the colour red.
She never had anyone else to take care of. She didn't have younger siblings, just one older brother who was long gone by the time she was fully conscious. It had only ever been Freya. She used to think it would be easier with someone else. It isn't. This isn't at least. She doubts that anything would make this easier.
Freya bites down hard on her lip in an attempt to stifle the sob in her throat. It makes her entire chest jerk. Tears start to build again, faster this time. They're falling again before Freya can even think to stop them. She squeezes Divya's hand even harder. It's impossible to tell which of them is holding the other more tightly.
Still, her mind forces her away. It brings Freya to an open field where, when she looks up, there are stars as far as she can see. She feels the grass under her hands even as they touch concrete. She swears the breeze smells like fir trees.
This place, her happy place, doesn't exist. It's always been more of a dream than anything concrete. Freya's never seen anything outside of Toronto. She's never seen a field that isn't covered in garbage or smell like old motor oil. It doesn't exist and yet she's still there, far far away from The Cut.
"Divya Jha has been eliminated. Eleven contestants remain."
She can still feel the girl's hand in hers. Instead of evergreen, every breath fills her nose with iron. The field- she fights to pull herself back there. In fact, the fragile part of Freya tells her that, when she opens her eyes, there will be no red. That same frightened, childish voice tells her that it was only a dream.