𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑺𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 | ✔

8 | Back to the Start

ONE AFTER THE OTHER, Amora took a dish from the sink, scrubbing it clean. She did this until they were all gone and sighed, watching the faucet's water rush over her hands.

Water. 

The woman stared down at it until she couldn't any longer. Nara was in the past. Despite knowing better, though, she still felt that twinge of guilt. If only she hadn't taken her to that lake; if only she had listened to her mother and turned back. 

It was too late now. 

When Amora turned around, a little too quickly, she waited for everything to still. That was when she spotted the whiskey on the counter, half gone, and reached over. As she took a couple more sips, Amora chuckled, remembering a time when she told herself it wouldn't happen again. 

That this was a one-time thing. 

It was also the first time she had tried whiskey, Amora recalled, and took another sip. She had no doubt that she'd regret this later, but right then she just didn't care. Besides, it was now the evening, her work at the Humane Society done with. 

It was time to be herself. 

On her way to the couch, bottle in hand, Amora tripped over the shattered glass, falling to her hands and knees. She groaned and waited for her shock, before looking around. The whiskey. It was now in pieces, intermixed with the broken glass of that photo. 

Finally, Amora decided it was time. So, after dusting herself off, she came back with a broom and dustpan. Before emptying it into the trash, she looked down at it one final time. And she remembered the day that it was taken of her and Willow. 

I'm sorry, Nara, that you came along. 

Only when she sat down on the couch, ready to relax, did she notice something. Her hand - it was wet. After looking down, she gave a delayed yelp when she saw the blood. Amora may have had a high tolerance for alcohol, but somehow she had drunk too much. 

Enough for nausea, she thought bitterly, and held her stomach. All the while, she stared down at her other hand, watching as the blood dripped onto her shirt. 

It had been two days since she visited Willow. Since then, time had gone by in slow-motion as she struggled to stay put; to not drive over there for the second time, demanding to talk. It would be immature, after all. And, more importantly, it would prove that she needed her. 

However, soon she wouldn't care. 

Besides, Amora rationalized, her mother had that nightmare about her. All those years back, when she was warned about Nara, she had taken it with a grain of salt. If Amora were to make that same mistake again, life wouldn't be worth living. 

So, after taking some pain medication, she trudged outside, keys in hand. 

It was well time. 

-

She knocked once, then twice. "Willow, open up!"

From the other end, there was no movement. 

Another beat passed. 

"Willow?" Her heart was pounding. "If you don't open up, I'll have to kick this door down. You know I will! I've done it before."

The apartment remained silent. 

"Well, I guess you'll just have to forgive me!" She stepped back, braced herself, then lunged forward. 

The door didn't budge. The second time it didn't either.