Love In Therapy ✔️

Chapter 1

~Picture of Freya Willis portrayed at the top. I know she looks young but she checks what I had in mind. Lol.~

Freya's POV.

I shivered in fear with one hand on the wall and half my face peeping to watch the scene in the hall. My mom and dad were at it again. One would think my mom had it under control and could hold her own despite my father's bashful words and painful slaps but for her shivering and whimpering that gives it all away. That was the sixth fight in five days. Every day as I went to bed I wondered how two people who claimed to love each other could fight so much. My mom told me every time that they married out of love and I was breathing proof of their love. I didn't think I believed her. Their fights told me otherwise. Sometimes- most times- it was easier to believe I was a product of hate. Only then was it easy to cast the blame on someone; myself. Only then could I hate myself for being the cause of the hate and enmity between my parents.

"Ah!" I heard my mom's scream and I looked up in time to see my mom crumble to the ground like a dead thief released from the noose tightened around his neck. She laid unmoving on the floor and my legs acted before my brain as I stepped into the hallway making my presence known. My dad looked up from my mom's body and I espied the shock written all over his face. He probably didn't expect me to witness all of that. I followed his gaze to the motionless body of my mom and my eyes widened in shock and trepidation as he began to kick her with his hard military boot. My mom remained still and he didn't care that she was unmoving but kept kicking her.

I yelled at him to stop as I moved closer to the scene. Then I saw it- the stream of blood slowly pouring out from my mom's head. I looked to the side to find her favorite ceramic vase shattered and some of the shreds stained with her blood.

"No! Mom! Get up!" I yelled frantically as I shook her still and now cold body.

"Dad, what have you done?" I asked him and I guess my question was a trigger of some sort as my dad grabbed his keys and his camo jacket and fled the house.

"911, what is your emergency?" The bass voice of the male attendant said and if it was another day, I'd have happily recorded the call just to hear his voice over and over again but not today. I had a secret fantasy over 911 men and firefighters and on days when I had the house to myself, I prank called the numbers until a male attended to me. I've gotten my line blocked but that didn't stop me from calling. Today though, I have a real emergency to report. I guess all my sins are catching up to me one after the other. Why on earth would a normal human prank call 911? I guess all my pranks finally morphed into reality.

"My mom... My mom, She's passe-" I felt woozy and our family pictures all looked like a blur to me. I felt warm liquid trickling down my head. I reached up to feel my head and on impulse I licked the liquid off my hand. Metallic feel—My blood. I looked up in time to see my dad toss the wooden baton to the side with his boot perched over my stomach and slowly coming down.

"Goodnight, princess. You can join mummy now. I love you." Were the last words I heard before the life was snuffed out of me.

xxXxx

"Damn keys!" I cussed as the bunch of keys holding my car and house keys fell to the porch for the umpteenth time. I didn't drive now though. The car had been parked outside my apartment ever since the dreaded accident.

I picked up the key with shaky tired hands and tried opening the door all to no avail. I stepped back and for a second I contemplated hitting the door open with my legs like the police would do when barging into a suspected crime house but I thought against it for obvious reasons. I tried once more and the lock finally gave way and the door swung open.