Freya sat outside as she rubbed her hands together every five minutes.

Banshees thought it was because of the cold. And it was indeed a chilly night. It was the type of coldness that reaches into her bones, as if her heart were a door left wide open to the icy wind, slamming only to open again. The only thing to do was hope; hope that he doesn’t make a deal bad enough to affect him forever.

The sky rolled blanket of cloud the color of wet ash, and the ground beneath her feet looked like its dank reflection. Each minute was becoming a prayer for safety as she sat a little far away from the house in which Barry was. Seeing the fire flies’ light inside the house from where she sat made her even more terrified of what might be happening inside.

She remembered well and clear how the Banshees got rid of the mistletoe from her body. Usually, during the process, the effected gets a dose of Fopez and it makes him dizzy, eventually falling into a deep sleep. When he wakes up, the mistletoe is gone and thanks to the oak mixed with fopez, the healing process starts almost immediately. But Freya wasn’t lucky.

When she got brought in, she was dying.

“Almost dead!”

She heard the Banshees whispered as they casted their eyes on her as if they’ve never seen a human like her. But they had – of course they had. They were the ancient ones. But it wasn’t because of who she is, it was because of how she looked.

A nine-year-old, terrified out of her mind. Freya cried for hours and hours until there were no tears left in her body. She had just witnessed murder and not one, but two of them.

Little Freya’s lifeless body was placed on a rock; her back facing the Banshees that stood over her.

She could barely talk; move even. Her body had given up long ago. The moment she saw the murders; the moment she saw their bodies ripping into little pieces, the innocence and hope has drained out of her body. But all she remembered was the one word that still echoed in her mind like a holy sermon,

“Run!”

And she did.

Little Freya ran.

She ran for so long until she couldn’t recognize that part of the Island. She wasn’t sure if she was being followed but she didn’t stop to look back. How could she? She was told to run.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, her feet caught up in a fallen branch and she lost control of her body. Her body gave up immediately as if it were waiting for one loophole, one chance. She tried to get up; she was instructed to run but her legs were dead, they weren’t moving at all so Freya dragged her body behind a huge tree to shelter from whatever might be following her.

And she sat there.

For hours.

Thirsty and hungry until she realized there’s something in her hand.

She opened her little palm and there it sat; calmly and innocently. Without a second thought or warning, Freya ate the whole leaf only to puke it all out but the poison had started its work. She could feel her already sore body shutting down and her throat closing in. Gasping for air, she tried to stand up but as soon as she did, her knees felt weak and she fell, hitting her head on the stone. It was impossible for her to see with the blurry vision. With tears in her eyes, and regret in her heart, she closed her eyes.

It was useless to hope.

"Are you okay?"

A young Banshee snapped Freya out of her thoughts, startling her.

"Yes."

"But you are crying." he pointed out and Freya's hand reached for her cheek subconsciously.

She was indeed crying. Hot tears ran down her cheek to her jaw and fell to the dirty ground.

"The procedure is about to start." He pointed out when Freya didn't say anything.

‘Barry...’ she was brought back to reality.

Little Freya’s time was long gone, she had made mistakes and paid for them but it was time for Barry to pay for something he never even did. He wasn’t a part of the Island; Freya wasn’t even sure if the Fopez and Oak will work on him.

“It will, don’t worry.”

“What?” Freya looked behind her shoulder and the same young Banshee stood.

“Fopez and Oak works on everybody.” He assured her.

Freya didn’t realize she’s been talking loudly.

“He isn’t a part of the Island.” She pointed out.

“You mean, he’s not the Island’s property?”

Freya looked at the young Banshee. He looked intelligent and needless to say, smart. All the Banshees were human looking. The ancient Banshees were dwarfs but the newer ones, they looked just like humans – just like her.

“My name’s Eden. What’s yours?” he smiled.

“Freya.” Freya replied. He looked harmless and probably only wanted to be friends.

‘Or maybe he noticed how tensed I was...’ she thought to herself.

“I’ve heard that name before...” He mumbled and looked at Freya until his eyes widened, “You’re the girl who forgot.”

Freya was taken back but the label but she nodded her head before a sad smile appeared on her face, “Is that what they call me here? The girl who forgot?”

Eden looked embarrassed, almost guilty as he smiled slyly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. It's just, “Eden looked embarrassed, almost guilty as he smiled slyly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. It's just, I've read almost all the books and never has anyone traded such a big part of their life.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Truly, she didn’t. She was only nine, she didn’t have anything to offer and she was so far inside the Island, she could barely remember her own house.

“So, can I ask you something?” Eden looked at her with twinkle of hopes in his eyes and Freya nodded, “You don’t remember anything?”

She shook her head, “Not really, no.”

“Not even a slightest bit?”

She sighed and smiled at the boy’s stubbornness and eagerness to learn, “I do remember why I made the decision of trading the memory for my life. It was a bad memory, a memory I wanted to get rid of.”

“That bad?” he smiled sadly,

“The worst.” She raised her brows and smiled.

"Can I ask how it like is? I read you were conscious when they..." Eden shut his mouth almost suddenly. The look on Freya's face was evident; she didn't want to talk about it, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to...”

"It's alright," She cut him, "And yeah, I was conscious. I felt the cold dagger's surface cut my thigh in half,"

Eden's eyes widened, "They didn't give me Fopez because I was half dead. Had they given me, i would've died," no matter how hard she tried to forget the pain, the torture, her scream, the memory just wouldn't leave her alone like a nasty scar.

"And the Banshees? They didn't stop when you told you you're hurting?"

Freya shook her head, "Once the procedure starts, the Banshees go in a trance and only stop when it is done; doesn't matter if you get hurt or die."

"I'm so sorry." Eden looked at the ground. He didn't expect anyone to go through so much pain, especially Freya. She looked so fearless; it was awful that she went through so much only to save her life.

"It's not your fault, don't apologize." Freya smiled.

Both of them sat in silence as Eden’s first words echoed in her mind, ‘the procedure is about to start...’

Freya closed her eyes and put her head against the rough surface of the tree behind her. It wasn’t going to be long before Barry walks out of the house with his signature smile and a silly face, trying to make poor Freya laugh. But only Freya knew the torture he'd go through if he didn't fall asleep before the procedure. Only she knew the torture he'd go through if the oak and fopez mixture didn't help him heal.

She knew he'd die a painful death.

But again,

Neither Barry nor Freya had any choice.