The Hollows In Our Freedom | 'Hollows' Book Ⅲ

Chapter Eighty-Two

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T h e H o l l o w s I n 
O U R F R E E D O M
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A L E X I

I stared at myself in the mirror, thinking of the disaster that happened when I was only fifteen. I frantically tried to rid my face of tears, disgusted in myself that I would find this very situation the best-suited one to cry at—when I had already done that.

I wasn't weak, and I didn't want to be weak. It hurt to know that I had opened the wounds that someone had helped me close three years ago.

Elle had just left and had tried to piece me back together again—but it didn't work. I needed the person who did it before to do it again, but that was entirely impossible.

Someone knocked on the door suddenly and I jumped. I tried to pat my hair down, whilst smoothing my clothes out, whilst ridding my face of tears, whilst trying to figure out ways to clear my eyes of the redness.

"Don't–don't come in–" But the door opened anyway.

It was Jace.

When he saw me, he stared for a couple of moments and I watched as glass seemed to crack behind his eyes.

I swallowed, sensing that he didn't like seeing me this way. I didn't like seeing myself this way either.

He closed the door before hesitatingly taking steps towards me. When he saw that I didn't move or flinch, he pulled me in for a tight embrace. I wrapped my arms around him, holding onto him as if the edge of a cliff-face was right underneath me. And I did something I didn't want to do—I cried.

He held onto me tightly, murmuring comforting things and rubbing my back gently.

When I had calmed, albeit only by a fraction, I pulled away slightly. I exhaled. "I don't know how to–" I paused to breathe, my rib cage shaking. "I don't know how to fix myself this time."

"You don't need to fix yourself; I can help you." He told me, eyes earnest.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "You don't understand, someone else helped me last time—helped me to realise that I'm not weak, that nothing was my fault, that I could speak out. It's not possible now."

Jace frowned at me, gently tucking strands of my hair behind my ear. I felt as though I was in a storm that I couldn't escape, and Jace was trying to burst through the clouds—but he couldn't. I was drowning.

"Why not?" He asked, causing me to submerge for only a moment or two.

I took a deep breath. "Because he's dead," Jace frowned down at me, "because Carter is dead, and he helped me."

Jace didn't speak for a few moments but then led me over to the bed, pulling up a chair for himself. He sat opposite me and I saw him put his therapist face on.

"I'll help you," he told me, "I promise, it'll be fine."

I nodded slowly, pausing for a long breath again as I tried to get my ribcage to stop shaking.

I closed my eyes, and suddenly I was back there.

"It was a party," I heard Jace hum in confusion, but I continued. "I was celebrating my five years at the Academy, and since it was a New Years Ball, I was also celebrating that and my birthday."