I stopped by the bar to grab a drink and play some darts for a while before heading home.

The first thing my eyes fell on when I walked into the bar was Alex, who was sitting alone and had her head in her hands. I walked toward her and sat on the chair that was beside her before I ordered a glass of bourbon.

She didn't even notice my presence, and I figured out why when I saw all the empty glasses that were in front of her.

"Are you trying to get yourself to pass out?" I spoke up, trying to grab her attention.

She removed her hands and looked at me, then she brought her eyebrows together in a frown. "What are you doing here?" she slurred.

"It's a miracle that you still recognize me." I looked at her with a slight smirk as I tried to lighten up the mood a little.

She said nothing in return and kept looking at something that I thought she only could see.

"I'm tired," she finally said. Her brown eyes looked darker than usual, and they no longer had the usual spark that always made them glow like a beautiful, starry night.

"Come on, I will drive you home," I said as I rose from my seat, grabbing her hand.

She didn't stand up or even move. "I'm tired of keeping everything inside all this time. I feel like there's something heavy weighing down on my chest, and it's getting very hard to breathe."

My eyes slightly widened. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I could feel the pain in her words. I sat back before I concentrated my attention on her. "Alex, what is it?"

She looked at me with eyes full of uncertainty. "I never wanted anybody to know, but I really need to talk to someone. I can't hold it in anymore. I feel like being trapped in a cage or as if someone's keeping me hostage."

"You can tell me." I reached out and put my hand on hers, trying to encourage her to speak as I wondered about the thing that was weighing her down.

"I have told you before that my father was also an FBI agent," she began, shifting her gaze away so she wouldn't be looking at me straight in the eye.

"Yeah, I remember that."

She took a deep breath before she continued. "I was ten when it happened. I woke up one night to the loud sound of gunshots. When I walked out of my room, I found four masked men surrounding something. When they moved, I saw the body of my mom—she was in my father's arms, and she was dead. Her blood was... everywhere."

I had wide eyes when she finished. I couldn't imagine what she had been through.

I watched as she breathed heavily and closed her eyes before she started to speak again.

"My dad saw me and looked me in the eye. I can never forget the look that was on his face. After that, one of them walked closer and pointed his gun at my dad's head. He muttered a few words to him I didn't hear, then he killed him with a bullet that went straight to the middle of his head." She turned to look at me. "I screamed and ran from them. I hid in the closet until the police found me."

"Alex, I'm so sorry," I whispered. She went through hell, and I couldn't grasp that she had kept all of that inside without having the weight of it crush her down.

"No." She shook her head slowly, looking me in the eye. "Don't give me any pitiful or sympathetic looks. I don't need them. I only told you because I want to sleep without having those nightmares again, to ease that pain a little so I can breathe."

I nodded silently, not knowing what to say. I watched as she grabbed the full glass that was still in front of her and gulped it down. Then she put her head on the table and closed her eyes.

I kept looking at her for a few moments, then I grabbed my own drink and thought about everything she had told me.

She was so strong. I couldn't believe that she managed to tell me all of that without breaking down. But I was really glad that she shared with me some of the things that were causing her a great deal of pain.

For I knew that the harder a person kept trying to keep something like that only for themselves, the bigger it would get. Until it would eventually take the form of their worst nightmares, an inner beast that would haunt and consume them whole.

Some battles were just never meant to be fought alone.