Take my Hand | MIKHAIAH

CHAPTER 15 - Functional Basket

Mikha sat quietly on the couch. Her headache was getting better and her body wasn't weak as before. The clouds in her brain slowly faded away. She could think much clearer. She turned the TV on with a low volume. The night was still young but Aiah was nowhere near sight. She might be in her room or somewhere. Mikha felt relieved somehow. She wasn't confident to face her for the first time since she was fully sober.

"Hey, you're awake?" The sudden greet startled Mikha. "I'm sorry! Was I too loud?"

"No, no. It's fine, you're fine." she said. "I'm good now." Mikha muttered.

"Okay," Aiah stood there – no less awkward from Mikha. "Do you want something to eat?" she offered.

"No, I'm good," she nodded. "Thanks."

"Can I sit here?"

"Suit yourself." Mikha replied without looking at her.

"Mikha, can we talk?" Aiah asked cautiously.

"About?"

"You."

"What about me?" she switched from one channel to another. Internally fret about whatever Aiah wanted to talk about.

"Where were you?" she started with a gentle tone.

Mikha exhaled her breath slowly. "I was from the bar." she said. Every cell in her body commanded her to stop, to walk away from Aiah right at that second because it won't do her any good if she speaks further.

"Is everything okay?"

Mikha remained silent.

"You said you're trying to do happy things, you keep on saying sorry. I don't– I don't understand."

Mikha tilted her head at the latter for a moment.

"What else did I say?"

"Incoherent words. You're having a bad dream."

Mikha was beyond mentally exhausted. She didn't really remember much of what happened, though she was kind of glad because of it. She wanted Aiah to stay, she wanted Aiah to understand without telling the entire horrible story about her. But she can't.

Mikha sighed.

"You're right, bub. You don't deserve this. I don't deserve you." Mikha stated wearily. "I'll tell mom and dad and your parents, you don't have to put up with me any longer."

"What do you mean?" Aiah disliked the sound of it.

"I'm not good for you, bub." Mikha sighed heavily. "Just forget it okay? We'll remain friends if you want."

"I can decide for myself what's good and what's not for me." her tone increased by words.

"I'm a mess, Aiah! Don't you see it?" Mikha provoked "My life is a mess, I screw everything up! Why are putting so much effort into this to work? I'm not the person you'd want to spend your life with!" she shouted.

Aiah winced watching the frustrated Mikha she never saw before.

"I was diagnosed with PTSD way back then. You're practically sitting with a crazy person right now! Why don't you just go?!"

Seeing Aiah's reaction, Mikha held herself back. She tamed away and blew out some air to calm down. Her breath was raging and her head was about to explode. Her chest was constricted so tight and it was painful. Nevertheless, she didn't want to scare Aiah. if they were going to end it up right now, at least she did it the right way.