FREYA
His eyes are filled with fear and I want to call his name but find myself unable to produce any sounds as there is a huge lump in my throat at the sight. His chair is broken and his shoes and clothes are dirty in the mud. He looks so tired and so thin!
“Rickie!” I run to him and as soon as he sees me, his face brightens.
“Freya!” he tries to look happy but I see how his lips tremble. My poor little brother is on the verge of crying and I fall to my knees next to him and pull him into the biggest and tightest hug! I feel his body shake a few times while in my embrace and I give him time to have this discreet little moment of weakness. There is one thing that I have learned about Rickie early on – he does not like to seem weak at all. Neither does he like to be a burden.
