Usually, I leave this as last... but today, I feel like you deserve it prior to the chapter.
I actually have no words. I don't think I can put it into words and do justice to it all – to the experiences of my past years and the surprise that I am still here, fighting and kicking.
We all have something, our own little personal hells that we have to push through, so I am no one special. However, I do believe I pulled through, and there's only one way up now. I hope that I have put it all behind me. I feel like I have a connection with my characters again, and I can do – finish – what I started... and so here we are, nearly a year since the last update.
I appreciate you all, and I hope your lives are heading the right way. I am grateful for my supporters and readers – you are the best. And I sincerely apologize for the torturous long wait. Bless you all.
Amie cracked her neck and stretched her back as she straightened from the box before her. The innocent-looking beige box was filled with various items, from the broken vase Amie refused to touch since the shooting, to the numerous video games that nobody would play ever again. Well, certainly she wouldn't.
Not that she didn't like them, or she had no emotional ties to the items scattered around the house, left by their previous occupants. She played the video games with Vince before, and she watched Jesse and Leon race and shout in excitement while Letty laughed at them. Deep down, Amie knew one day she would regret binning them. Yet as she watched them through the long days of loneliness, she felt the overwhelming urge to get rid of them.
She didn't wish to have reminders of her past in front of her, or pathetically attempt to connect to it. There was no turning back. None of them would ever meet in their house – their home – for a warm dinner, exchange words of their days and any news they came across. No more hugs, no more smiles, no more—
"Is that the last one?" Syd interrupted the dark spiral of Amie's thoughts as she walked through the main door, followed by Frankey, who was attempting to rub the dirt off her top.
"Yeah," Amie nodded, rotating her shoulder. The check at the hospital – forced by Syd – brought no good news. The young doctor, too busy to spare her more than two looks, informed her that it seemed her muscles grew back strangely and questioned her if she rested. Amie only smiled. It seemed pathetically ironical that she would now have limited movement in her arm, bothered by the tension in it. And let's not forget the scar. But she barely cared anyway. "I will sort upstairs later."
Her friends exchanged a short look, which went unnoticed by her. It was Frankey who cleared her throat and, as she walked through the nearly empty living room, and she said: "Looking a lot better now. Empty, but cleaner. And less chaotic."
Their living room has never been chaotic, unless the boys left their things scattered around, leaving the girls to pick it up after them, obviously. But now when Frankey made that comment, Amie felt her throat tighten. They had to bin so many things. Her favourite chair in the corner lost a leg, and the tall lamp snapped in half. It seemed almost laughable how much destruction was left behind. She needed it gone, and when she asked her friends for help, thankfully they had no problems with it.
"Are you going to re-decorate?"
Amie slowly focused on Syd, as if a thin film separated their worlds and connecting through it was rather difficult. "Re-decorate?"
Syd shifted, sending a short look at Frankey, but Amie picked up on it this time. "You know, girl, you staying right?"
Toretto's lips opened, but no sound came out. She didn't know, of course. Could she even stay if she helps Vince to run? Should she run with him? Her eyes slowly moved towards the kitchen, where on the clean surface, lay the damned folder. A new start which would change her life, however, the memory of Tran would forever hang above her. "I don't know," Amie carefully admitted. Then her eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"Why?" Frankey chuckled humourlessly. "Knowing if ya leaving us or not would be good."
"What is Fran trying to say," Syd stepped in quickly. "We can see you struggling and want to know how we can help. And knowing if you will stay here with us, would give us some picture of what we can do."
"Why, do you want to move in?" The question flew out of her lips so fast she realised it only as the confusion appeared on her friends faces.
"We could, I suppose if you really wanted," Frankey said with a slight frown.
"You have been so withdrawn from us. Naturally, we are worried. We want to know what you going to do now. If you want to move out, we would understand and help you," Syd smiled, her motherly nature coming out. "Just tell us."
"I don't know what to do," Amie's harsh whisper carried across the room, pressing on all of their shoulders with the intensity and urgency hidden within. A memory of the flat flashed through her mind and she shuddered. "I will figure it out. Eventually."
They all fell into silence and Amie made her way towards the table, where laid pen and blank paper. She tried to sketch something, but she felt so empty. Drained. It laid there empty for two days.
"So, shall we have a party?" Frankey asked, rubbing her palms together in excitement. "Since it is all nice and clean here, and the sound system miraculously survived."
"I am not in mood to have a party here. Or party whatsoever."
"Okay, but honey…" Syd paused, sighing heavily. "You can't stay holed up here."
Watch me, Amie wanted to say. She only shrugged.
"What about going to a race?" Frankey suggested. "There is one not far away from here tonight and…-"
"Are you mad?" Amie snapped, her head whipping towards her friend so fast, she almost winced painfully.
Frankey blinked. "W-why?"
"Why? For the love of… why? Like I want to go anywhere near racing right now, or, funnily, ever again. Actually, every racing car I see, I have this massive urge to set it on fire. Anything that has something to do with racing or is Vietnamese makes me sick, like I can't breathe," Amie had to pause, as the air wasn't coming fast enough into her lungs. Her whole body trembled with adrenaline. "I would rather die than go willingly watch racing idiots…-"
"Okay, okay, we get it," Frankey raised her hands in surrender.
"No, no, you don't!" Amie actually screamed this time, gasping for air. "Nobody… nobody gets it… God. I hate this. Hate this… whole…"
Arms enveloped her. She didn't realise Syd approached her, as her footsteps were drowned in her fast gasps for air and blood rushing in her ears. She was lightheaded, and felt completely out of control. Forgetting why she started shouting, Amie felt as drowning in the air she gasped for. No matter how much she inhaled, it seemed unsatisfactory for her lungs so she gasped for more.
"Amie… listen… fuck, Fran!"
"She can't breathe?"
Amie wanted to snap at them, but the air blocked the words and locked them inside of her chest.
"Try to focus on me, Amie," Syd begged her, twisting the young Toretto in her arms until they were face to face. "Everything is fine, honey. We are here. And you are safe. Nobody will force you to go."
"Do you want me to call somebody?"
"And who?"
Amie's cheeks were drenched by tears and the whole world was cut off from her, therefore she didn't register the fast steps until a new set of hands laid on each side of her head.
"Who the fuck—"
"Shut up, no time for introductions," snapped Cara, pivoting herself close to Amie and Syd, until she was nearly in Toretto's face. "Girl… can you tell me what did you have for food?"
If she could, she would punch her. Like she cared what she had for food, when she was nearly choking on the air.
"Was it the nasty sandwich from that pathetic cafe of yours?"
"Fuck… off…" Amie managed to choke out.
"Keep talking, Toretto, the sound of your voice is so much better than gasping for air like a fish. So was it tuna sandwich?"
"No…" Amie pushed her away, rolling on her side, realising she can breathe a little better out of nowhere. "Was a… fucking… carbonara."
"Fancy."
The house stilled around her, as Amie wiped at her cheeks and her nose. She felt their questioning gazes on her back. She shuddered a long inhale, curling into herself. The aftermath of her gasping was still her, hiccupping through her chest.
"Who are you?"
"Cara Tran," her saviour said with superior tone. "And you are very welcome for knowing what to do."
"Yo, girl, watch it," Frankey growled and the wooden floor shifted as she moved towards the newcomer. "We were doing our best."
Syd gently touched Amie's shoulder. "But thank you."
Somehow – and Amie was still trying to wrap her head around how – Cara managed to get her friends out of the house soon after her panic attack. The two of them sat on the sofa in uncomfortable silence, but it barely bothered her. She felt confused, strangely numb and disconnected. Almost drugged.
"Do you want something to eat?" Cara suddenly asked, breaking the silence between them.
Amie slowly turned to her, looking into her concerned eyes. "I… no, probably not. There is nothing here."
Cara's nose wrinkled. "I can get something."
"You don't have to."
But Amie's eyes drifted shut not long after her words, and when she woke up next, she found herself under a thin blanket. In front of her, on the table, sat a tall glass of orange juice and a plate with a huge sandwich, full of salad, tomatoes, ham, and cheese. She blinked, confused, until her eyes found Cara walking out of the kitchen. She placed two bowls on the table, one full of cookies and the other filled with popcorn.
"Pick whichever you want, but maybe the cookies will help. Double chocolate ones."
Slowly propping herself up onto her elbow, she gazed at the food and then at Tran. Something shifted in her chest, and Amie had to fight tears.
"Just eat."
"Why are you here?" Amie found herself asking in the end, reaching for the drink first.
"Babysitting."
Amie scoffed. Fuck off, she nearly said, but the juice tasted too good.
"Originally, I brought some beer, thinking I could get some answers out of you," Cara explained, crossing her arms over her chest elegantly, leaning on one leg. "Sober or drunk, either way worked for me. Wasn't expecting… this."
"Nobody forced you to stay. Syd and Frankey could have instead of you."
"Because they seem so capable of looking after you."
"Fuck off."
"A simple thank you would work too."
The girls glared at each other for a moment or two, though Amie's expression was rather fatigued, until Cara cracked a small smile.
"I really don't want you here," Amie grumbled. "I still haven't changed my mind about not wanting to see any Tran in my life ever again."
"That's fine. I am used to not being wanted around people," Cara answered nonchalantly. "But I have a feeling we are growing on each other."
"We are not."
Cara smirked as if she knew an inside joke. "However, I am not a very patient person. I wanted to find out what your decision is on the tattoo parlour, but seeing you like this…" the woman opposite her paused, slowly walking around the table to sit next to it, elbow leaning on it. She looked immaculate in her tight pink sleeveless shirt, black skirt, and open-toe heels, even despite sitting on the floor. "You worry me. This isn't good. You are destroying yourself."
Amie scoffed, reaching for the popcorn and grabbing a full fist of it. She opened her mouth wide, stuffing it all in, hoping to put Cara off and make her leave.
"How long are you planning to hesitate? Wait for a solution to appear?" Cara asked her, pressing her. "You nearly emptied half of this house. Pack your shit and move into your apartment. Sell this nightmare memory and move on. It might even cover some money for the tattoo place and equipment, if you know where to look."
"Ain't moving into that flat," Amie growled, though she didn't try to stop the idea of selling their house. It was theirs, yes, but the ghosts following her around every corner made her sick and tired. It will never be as it was.
"Well then sell that car I gave you and get the tattoo—"
"What if I don't want the tattoo place? It is a stupid idea – how could I do tattoos…" she shook her head, and then she remembered Vince. "I can't sell the car. I need it."
Cara exhaled loudly, tilting her head backward. "You have a car already."
"But it is not fast enough."
Amie could feel the atmosphere shift and when she looked at Cara, the girl was frozen. A small frown line appeared between her eyebrows. "What mess are you getting yourself into?"