After The Storm

Tamed

Alexa returned home to a sight that sent a jolt of worry through her. Ammielle, dressed in a nightgown, was slumped on the couch in the living room, a two and a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table in front of her. The scene was surreal—Ammielle never drank, especially not hard liquor, because of her strict regimen of medication for her acid reflux. Seeing her in this state was alarming and out of character.

As Alexa approached, she could see the devastation in Ammielle's eyes, a pain that ran deeper than the surface. She had expected to find Ammielle studying or resting, not drowning her sorrows in alcohol.

Ammielle stumbled into the living room, the room spinning slightly as she sank to the floor, clutching a half-empty bottle of liquor. The video game on the TV screen played on, its vibrant colors a stark contrast to her disheveled state. She threw her arms around Alexa, who was just stepping through the door, and hugged her tightly.

Alexa froze, taking in the scene with a mixture of shock and concern. Ammielle's appearance was unlike anything she had ever seen—her hair was tousled, her eyes glazed, and her speech slurred. The sight made Alexa's heart ache with an unfamiliar heaviness. She gently pried the bottle from Ammielle's hand, her voice laced with tenderness.

"Tell me, why are you doing this?" Alexa asked, her voice barely above a whisper taking the bottle of whiskey.

"Give it back to me, please," Ammielle hiccuped, reaching for the bottle with unsteady hands. "I never thought I'd... I'd feel ecstatic with that."

Both sat beside each other, Alexa felt the weight of Ammielle's despair pressing down on her. Despite her usually calm and composed exterior, seeing Ammielle in such a state made her acutely aware of the burdens Ammielle had been carrying. Alexa took a deep drink from the bottle, then leaned her head on Ammielle's shoulder.

"Is this about my grandmother and the life you have with me right now?" Alexa murmured, with brows meeting each other trying to bridge the gap between them.

Ammielle rested her head back against the sofa, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, both hands on her knees.

"No. It was never about you. Your choices, yes. But your choices doesn't speak for you."

"I'm in pain too. and there's not a day that I am not sorry for what all these has caused you," Alexa replied softly, trying to offer some semblance of comfort while leaning on Ammielle's shoulder.

"With the company, Michelle, and me. I noticed and I didn't do anything about it. I'm sorry." Ammielle said gently, her voice tinged with sadness. "Am I a burden? Or Did I fail to notice?"

"You never were." Alycia replied caressing ammielle's arms.

Ammielle's gaze grew distant, her voice dropping to a bitter edge.

"Until when are you going to use me?"

Alexa took another large gulp from the bottle, feeling the sharp burn of alcohol, and tried to steady herself.

"I never used you."

"Your family does," Ammielle chuckled darkly. "My life is being questioned online. It's not just the media seeking answers. I do, too." She spoke thinking of the files she found.

"I'm sorry," Alexa said, her voice barely audible as she took another drink, her mind racing.

Ammielle grabbed the bottle back, staring at it as if it were the only thing anchoring her in reality.

"I wonder what life would have been like if Mikaella was still alive," Ammielle said, her voice laden with regret.

A tear escaped Alexa's eyes. "You're saying that as if I was never here for you," she snapped, her frustration bubbling over for the first time. Her composure was cracking.