60.

75 5 7
                                    

   THERE'S SOMETHING you need to know," Freddie begins as I sat across from him. I nod, patiently waiting.

"Actually, there are a few things you need to know. It's about my nightmares, and my childhood. . ." He lets out a shaky breath, then continues. ". . . I have been having nightmares since I'd left home at fifteen. My dad was an alcoholic, and whenever he came home, he'd beat on my mother --- occasionally my younger brother and I, but mostly my mother. He never showed us affection, Hell, I've never witnessed the bloke kiss my mum. She was very sick, so she would stay in bed the majority of the day."

He zones out for a moment, and as he sat in the sofa across from me, I couldn't help but feel his pain. I mean, I had no room to talk, but having a father not love you was something I could empathize with Freddie on.

Suddenly, Freddie shakes his head slightly, then continues. "I'm sorry. . . I was just. . ."

"It's okay," I reassured him. "If you don't want to talk about this, we can do something else like watch a movie?"

The young man that I loved with all my heart could give shook his head. "No," he replied. "I need to stop holding everything in. Just. . . Just, let me finish what I'm saying."

I stay quiet, letting him speak.

"My mother was sick, so when my father lost his job, that left me to find one of my own. I tried to be good, I went to stores, and anywhere else that I could find, but I couldn't find a good paying job, so that left me to sell drugs." He scratched the side of his nose, then looks at me. "At fifteen I was making about ten thousand pounds a week, but that money went to bills and my mum's medical insurance."

When he'd revealed the amount of money he was making at that age, my jaw dropped.

Freddie gives me a small smile, then sighs. "I was making good money, and of course, I saved some and told my mum about it. She wanted me to save it in her room. Well, it was a bad idea because my dad had stolen it two nights before Christmas Eve, and when he came home that night, he had yelled at my mum over it; asking where it was.

"He attacked my mum, and then my younger brother because he was trying to defend her. So I had to jump in, and as soon as I had beaten my father to a pulp, I got told to get out."

He took a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair. "After that, I created LFOUR and I took charge of the streets in England. Of course, Damien's gang tried to destroy my younger brother's innocence, but I wouldn't allow it. When I started LFOUR, Max was the first member and my first friend. . . He. . . H-He. . ."

In a matter of seconds, Freddie placed his hand in between his hands, bawling uncontrollably.

I immediately went over towards him, wrapping my smaller arms around him. I held him close, rubbing his shoulder; letting him know that I was there. Freddie sighed, sniffing his nose. ". . . He was like a brother. And now, he's gone."

Running a hand through his hair, he continued. "When we assembled as LFOUR, we went crazy with our lifestyle. Drugs, booze and sex. I loved every part of it, I still do. But. . ."

"But what?" I asked.

Freddie looked up at me, his hand on my waist as he sat down on the couch. "But when you came into my life, I found out that I didn't want to be that guy anymore. Yes, I still drink, however, the want for other women went out the door. The need for getting high isn't existent any longer. I don't want anyone else, just you." he takes my hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze. "I love you, Amelia, and I'm glad you came back. I'm sorry I treated ye so poorly earlier. I should have come to you and talked about it instead of drinking myself away."

I nodded. He was so vulnerable right now. I couldn't help but admire this side about him. He was so used to being the tough guy, that when we were behind closed doors, he couldn't help but become the indestructible man. The man that no one, not even the woman he loved, could break down these walls. So as I watched him fade into a drunken slumber, head pressed against my flat stomach, I couldn't help but gently push him back on the couch. I grabbed a nearby blanket, took off my pants, and snuggled up next to him.

I took a hold of his hand, giving it a light squeeze.

"I love you, too, Freddie. Things will get better soon. I promise."

"I hope so," he slurred, half asleep. "I really do."

...

This Is England » Freddie Highmore Where stories live. Discover now