Forbidden Alliances // Alfie Solomons Peaky Blinders

(117) The Pain of Caring

*edited 04/02/23*

I'm aware the translation is probably really bad but I don't know Yiddish and I don't know anybody who does know Yiddish because it is such an endangered language. However, it is also very important for character authenticity so I found it necessary for the story. If any Yiddish speakers are reading this, I am so sorry if what I found on the internet is entirely wrong. I really did try my best.

Also, I made myself cry with this chapter... It's been stewing in my head for a while and I hate myself every time I draft the idea. Now that it's written out, I feel even worse lol. I hope you enjoy it. I love you all!

-V

~~~

She was upon soft white sand, the waves across from her lapped closer and closer as the high tide reached forward, closer, then further, then closer again.

The sun was just higher than a sunset as she stared out into the horizon. There were no birds or chatter in the background as she sat on the beach. She was alone and all she could hear were the waves as they crashed against nearby rocks and stumbled over one another as they rushed toward the shore.

Her hands grabbed fistfuls of sand as she sat cross-legged, a pair of soft combination polyester-wool pants against her legs and a loose tunic of white waved loosely on her abdomen. She looked down and analyzed the small granules of sand clinging to her hands as the fistfuls slipped between her fingers.

She expected to feel happy being on the beach on her own, just as the sun was setting and with a light breeze to keep her company. But she didn't feel much at all. She was staring at the sand numbly—emotionlessly. It was as if she were looking for a meaning to life in them without an ounce of hope. She felt numb and internally empty. She didn't feel happy, she felt dejected.

She felt thrust out of life and into a state of nothingness.

And as time went on in silence, the sun went down and the tide reached her position on the beach but she didn't bother moving away from the cold water as it soaked her feet first, then her legs, and moved up as far as her waist.

She sat in the wet cold until the moon revealed itself from behind the dark smog in the sky. The light seemed to draw her attention from the ground to the sky. Just as she looked up at the moon, it seemed to move like a contained dust cloud. The different shades of cream and white swirled and tumbled in the outline of the moon until there was the faintest of a smile on her face.

Freya tilted her head up at the sight questionably, obviously not expecting to be greeted with such a a welcoming smirk. She was puzzled and yet all she was possessed to do was vacantly smile back and utter, "I always imagined this to be different."

Her voice didn't sound like her own and yet it was so familiar it couldn't have been anyone else's. She sounded so withdrawn and phlegmatic. Her voice came out softly and in an almost whisper as she stared up at the smiling moon.

"I always imagined it to be me... I didn't think I would be around long enough to see it carried out... You knew too?"

She was speaking to the moon as if they were conversing but Freya heard nothing but the howling wind and that scratchy waves in the darkness. "We both knew it would happen..." there was finally a hint of emotion in her voice as it sounded accepting of the truth. She didn't blink as the moon's colors seemed to halt in their movement. "But how am I meant to carry on living when I swore an oath?" she asked but there was no evidence of her in a questioning tone.

Then suddenly the air was ripped from her lungs.

She didn't gag or attempt to find her breath in the air around her. It was like she knew the air was leaving her and she was prepared for it. It didn't come upon her suddenly. She knew when it would come and so she accepted it.