✨ Writing Sample ✨

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS: Violence, mentions of death, PTSD, and blood. (This snippet delves a little into Freya's traumatic past)




"Helloooooo? Earth to Freya... anyone home?" A soft voice called through the scattered rumbling of distant conversation. Freya blinked, eyes focusing out of the haze she had found herself in for the moment. An apologetic smile made its way to her lips, but it was fleeting, quickly replaced by a slightly confused frown.

"Sorry, Cav. I don't know where I was. Trapped in my own mind, I guess." She told him softly. It was a common occurrence these days. More and more, Freya found herself dissociating from reality and into another place. Somewhere else. Truth be told, it was almost as if she was in a dreamy-haze, unable to distinguish her dreams from reality at times. They had taken on such a real and familiar hue as of late. Perhaps she was simply going crazy.

Soft conversation made for a steady low hum in the diner she had grown to call home for the last 15 years. A waitress flittered by, her eyes kind and familiar as she asked for the surrounding table's orders before hurrying off to busy herself with some task at hand. A gentle hand reached out to place itself atop her own in a means of comfort.

“What’s up with you… you’ve been quiet lately. Something is bothering you.” Her uncle pressed gently, only there was something off about that kindness in his eyes. Those dark brown eyes no longer looked familiar to her, almost as if they belonged to someone else… almost as if they belonged to Luke. Still, Freya shook the thought off before speaking again.

“I don’t know, I’ve felt off… I’ve felt different. Ever since the–”

“Ever since the accident.” Cavanaugh finished the thought for her.

She nodded.

It was comforting to know that he knew where her head was at. Freya had always been close with her uncle, so it came as no surprise when he mentioned the accident. Except– wait a minute. How could he possibly be here talking about the accident when he was one of the people who perished in it? Her eyes were focused on her uncle’s hand that had gently been placed over her own. She blinked, and in an instant his hand was black and charred… burned to a crisp. It was only then that Freya truly realized her surroundings. She didn’t have any memory of coming here... This diner had burned to the ground 5 years ago.

A gasp left the redhead’s lips as she leapt to her feet and took a few stumbled steps backwards. A black charcoal imprint had left itself on her hand from his charred, yet gentle grip on her. Her uncle slowly moved to his feet. Now the unfamiliarity made sense.

“Please… no…” Freya pleaded, tears welling up and threatening to swallow those deep green eyes of hers. She couldn't live through this again.

but she didn't have the option...

The darkness had already begun, slowly consuming Cavanaugh’s arm in black as it radiated from his charred hand. The color was melding into his naturally light skin tone, consuming him slowly much like a fire would consume the delicate flesh. Cavanaugh was walking slowly towards her while Freya took small and uneven steps backwards until she felt her back press into a firm warmth behind her.

“It's your fault.”

The whisper was breathed softly against her ear from the man behind, eliciting small goosebumps on Freya’s skin. She whirled around to face the man she had backed into, despite already knowing who it was. She would recognize that voice anywhere. Blue eyes... black hair. He was only 21.

“Luke… I’m so sorry” She whimpered softly, tears finally breaking free from the confines of those fearful eyes. The darkness had begun to eat away at him, too, tainting his light skin with black until there was nothing left but a charred body. Freya shook her head as she lifted a hand to try and touch his face, but he was gone. In an instant, everything went black. Only a soft and calloused voice could be heard as it echoed through her thoughts.

“You can’t run from this.”

Screams shattered through the darkness as fire ignited in a violent whirl around her, engulfing the diner in flames along with the people in it. Luke and Cavanaugh were now both in front of her, mere inches away as the greedy flames licked hungrily at their blackened skin… and yet neither seemed bothered by this fact.

Freya turned on her heels to run but was quickly stopped in her tracks as the two men appeared before her once again, unsettling smiles on those familiar faces. A sharp pain flooded her body and radiated from the left side of her lower abdomen as a warm and wet feeling began to take over. She looked down. The fabric of her shirt was quickly soaking up the blood while a large wooden shard embedded itself in her skin. Luke and Cavanaugh spoke in unison now, their voices becoming one thunderous boom before everything went black.

“You cannot run from your past.”

A shuddered gasp left her lips as she shot up in bed, her hand placed firmly over her lower abdomen. Harsh pants filled the silence of her room. The clock read 5:32 am.

“Just a dream… It’s just a dream.” She assured herself softly as she lifted her shirt to inspect the scar on her lower abdomen from all those years ago. It was fully healed, but still remained imprinted on her skin.


“It was just a dream.” She repeated.




"Just a dream"