AMARA WARNER.

I groaned as the light pierced through my eyelids, stabbing into my skull like a thousand needles. My mouth felt like a desert, dry and gritty, and my head throbbed with a relentless rhythm. With a groggy moan, I shifted on the bed, trying to escape the discomfort. What had happened last night? My memory felt like a fragmented jigsaw puzzle, pieces missing or blurred by the haze of alcohol.

Then, the sound of footsteps approached, the creak of my bedroom door hinges announcing an unwelcome visitor. I cracked open one eye to see my brother Aaron standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and frustration.

"Amara, wake up," he said, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Why are you still asleep? It's past eight, and the kids are still up."

I groaned again, the effort of forming words feeling monumental. "Leave me alone," I muttered, my voice gravelly and rough. "Just let me sleep."

He stepped further into the room, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of me sprawled out on the bed, clearly worse for wear. "You've been drinking again, haven't you?" His tone was accusatory, tinged with disappointment.

I closed my eyes, unable to meet his gaze. Guilt washed over me, mixing with the remnants of last night's indulgence. "Maybe," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Aaron sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Amara, when are you going to stop this?" His voice was soft now, pleading almost.

Never...?

I bristled at his words, feeling a surge of anger rising within me. Who was he to lecture me? He was barely older than me, barely out of his teens himself. "Mind your own business, asshole," I snapped, my temper flaring despite the pounding in my head. "Just go put the kids to sleep and leave me alone. You're killing my buzz."

He took a step closer. "One day you're going to kill yourself," he said quietly. "Just get up and help me put the kids to sleep. Jenna is all kinds of hyped up right now and I don't know how to calm her."

With a heavy sigh, I dragged myself out of bed, my limbs feeling heavy and uncoordinated. Aaron watched me silently, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration. I could see the worry etched into the lines of his face, a silent plea for me to pull myself together.

"Alright," I murmured, resignation coating my words like a bitter pill. "I'll help you with the kids. But don't expect me to be all happy and patient with them."

A tired smile tugged at the corners of Aaron's lips, gratitude shining through the exhaustion in his eyes. "I'll take what I can get," he replied wearily. "Let's just get this over with."

Together, we made our way down the hallway to where the kids were still wide awake, their energy levels seemingly boundless. Xander was scribbling down something on a journal but as soon as he saw me walk in, his smile dropped and he ran to his bed. Jenna... Jenna was bouncing off the walls, her laughter echoing through the house like a cacophony of chaos.

"Jenna, sweetheart, it's time for bed," Aaron said, his voice gentle but firm. "You need to get some rest."

"I don't wanna go to bed," she protested.

I let out a long sigh. My headache was exceedingly worse every second passing by. "Jenna, you need to sleep. It's past nine thirty."

Jenna crossed her arms defiantly, her gaze fixed on us with unyielding determination. "I'm not tired," she declared, her tone laced with defiance.

"Jenna, sweetheart, everyone needs sleep," my brother said, trying to reason with her. "Even superheroes need their rest."

Jenna rolled her eyes, her expression unimpressed. "I'm not a superhero," she retorted, her sassiness shining through. "I'm a princess."

Aaron stifled a chuckle, trying to maintain his authoritative demeanor. "Well, even princesses need their beauty sleep," he said, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice.

But Jenna wasn't about to back down that easily. "I don't need beauty sleep," she replied with a toss of her head. "I'm already beautiful."

I couldn't help but join in the banter, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips despite the lingering tension. "Princesses aren't as feisty as you, Jenna," I teased, trying to keep my tone light as I struggled to maintain a stern facade. "They listen when we tell them something, so go to sleep or you'll wake up looking like a grumpy old troll."

Aaron shot me a warning glance, his eyes silently pleading for us to end the verbal sparring match before it escalated any further. "Alright, you two," he interjected, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Let's not turn this into a battle of wits."

Of course, she had to have a comeback to this, "I'm not a troll—you're the troll!"

"I'm not the one with the nasty behavior, am I?"

"No, but you're the one with the ugly face—"

"Jenna, that's enough!" Aaron snapped. He interjected before me because he knew I was going to explode. "Stop being so disrespectful."

"I'm not disrespectful," she shot back with a shrug. "I'm just telling the truth."

He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his blond hair in frustration. "Can we please just focus on getting you to bed?" he pleaded. "This argument isn't helping anyone."

"I'm not going to bed until she admits that she's the one with the ugly face."

I scoffed. "This is ridiculous. Just go to bed already."

"No," she retorted. "Not until you admit it."

Growing increasingly impatient, I realized there was no use arguing further. With a sigh, I chose to exit the room, my footsteps heavy with frustration. I sought solace in the familiarity of my own bed, craving the comfort it offered. All I wanted was to escape and forget about everything for a while. But as soon as I collapsed onto my bed, my brother barged into my room, ready to lecture me.

Aaron's voice sliced through the air. "Amara, I thought you had this under control," he began. "What happened to all those promises? The ones where you swore you'd toss out the bottles and stay sober? What happened to that?"

I let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of his words crushing me. "You're painting me as some sort of addict."

"Isn't that what you're becoming?" He settled on the edge of my bed. Aaron Warner, the epitome of perfection, yet here we were, far from it.

"The difference, Aaron," I started, but doubt lingered in my words like a stubborn shadow. "is that I can stop whenever I choose to. Addicts don't have that luxury."

"Then do it. Quit," he urged, his voice tinged with desperation.

I can't...

"How about no?" I said with as much confidence and attitude as I could muster up.

"Why can't you?" His question pierced through the silence, demanding an answer I wasn't ready to give.

"You are all ruining my fucking buzz," I muttered, the words escaping in a bitter exhale. I buried my face deeper into the pillow.

"Why not, Amara?"

"Because I don't want to, asshole." I finally admitted, the truth hanging heavy in the air between us. "Now, would you mind letting your dear sexy older sister have an average night of sleep, please?"

As I nestled snugly under the covers, feeling the warmth of my bed enveloping me, Aaron's expression shifted, indicating his frustration with our conversation's lack of progress. He let out a heavy sigh.

"Right..." he murmured as he approached me. With the familiarity of routine, he leaned in and placed a tender kiss on my forehead, a gesture that had become routine every night. "We'll pick this up later—"

I couldn't help but respond with a touch of irony in my voice. "Looking forward to it."

A soft smile softened the tension in Aaron's features as he gazed at me. "Good night, Amara," he said gently before turning to leave my room, allowing me to enjoy my buzz and my night of seep.

Which was much needed and deserved.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

Dragging yourself out of bed with a pounding headache and a queasy stomach after a night of drinking is definitely up there as one of the most annoying ways to wake up. And it gets even more frustrating when you've got two kids bouncing around, each shouting for their own sugary treat – one pleading for brownies, the other for cookies.

"Cookies are way better," Xander declared with a grin, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. "They can be made in all sorts of shapes and flavors, unlike brownies. We could even get them shaped like animals or stars—"

Jenna responded with an exaggerated eye roll. "Are we supposed to eat them or play with them?"

"Well, either way, they'd certainly bring some joy into your life, maybe even improve your attitude."

Jenna scoffed dramatically. "You know what, Xan? Cookies suit you perfectly because they're soft and predictable," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, look at that! Just like you."

"Are you ignoring what I just said on purpose? I just explained how cookies were anything but predictable," Xander retorted.

"Do I look like I care?" Jenna shot back, her expression unimpressed.

"Clearly not, since you're playing stupid," he replied, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Call me stupid one more time, and I'll hit you so hard you'll forget how to spell it," Jenna threatened, her tone half-serious, half-amused. But Xander seemed unfazed; he was no stranger to her threats.

"Maybe if you actually listened to me, I wouldn't have to call you that," he countered.

With a frustrated groan, Jenna threw her hands up in defeat. "You're so annoying!"

"So are you!" Xander shot back.

"I'm not annoying," Jenna insisted, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Yes, you are."

"You're more annoying than me, anyway."

"Have you looked in the mirror, Jen?"

"I do. Every night, and I appreciate my reflection unlike you, Xan'," Jenna quipped back, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Your reflection, but not your attitude," Xander teased, knowing he was pushing her buttons.

"Amara, please make him stop before I actually hurt him," Jenna turned to me.

"Not if I hurt—" Xander started.

"That's enough sibling bonding for today, you two," I interjected, my voice firm but laced with amusement. I didn't think I could take any of it without kicking their butts and tapping their mouths. "We'll just go with what I want, all right?"

Both of them groaned in unison as they threw their heads back. "Nooooo!"

"Do you have any idea why I'm the one picking today's breakfast?" (Because I'm hungover.) They shook their heads in confusion. "Because I know exactly what's best," I declared proudly.

"That's bullshit," Jenna retorted almost immediately, her tone laced with indignation.

"Your fucking preference for brownies is bullshit, Jenna, but you don't see me bitch about it, do you? So, let's just accept it. Crepes it is for breakfast."

As expected, their initial resistance quickly turned into excitement. They cheered and jumped around, thrilled with my choice. I asked the chefs to make crepes, and my siblings and I sat at the table, waiting. The delicious aroma of cooking filled the air, making us even more impatient. Aaron, as expected, wasn't home. He mentioned earlier that he was visiting Juliette Ferrars today, again, so I knew he wouldn't be joining us for breakfast.

To be honest, I don't really know what Father asked him to do. I've been trying to piece it together from what he tells Aaron. But the truth is, I don't care. It keeps Father away from home, away from us. Away from me...

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

The base was eerily quiet past nine pm, mostly because the kids were tucked in and asleep. I wandered the dimly lit hallway, feeling the burn of liquor in my throat—a routine I've created to help me sleep quickly and easily without all the nightmares. Each step was uneven, my body swaying slightly from the alcohol.

I stumbled, catching myself on the cold wall, and let out a bitter laugh at my own clumsiness. The alcohol helped, but it also made me feel exposed, vulnerable, and I hated feeling that way.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't hear the approaching footsteps until a voice pulled me from my reverie.

"Excuse me," I heard them speak to me. "Are you okay, Ms. Anderson?"

My body instantly froze when I realized a man spoke to me.

Run, Amara. Run!

"I had to report information to you, but you seem to not be in a good state," his face tilted to the side looking at me. "Also, your eyes are glassy—should I be worried?"

I stayed quiet and continued gazing at him. He was dressed in a uniform indicating he's a soldier, which was reassuring a bit. However, I couldn't recall ever seeing him before, but I didn't pay much attention to the soldiers around here. That was Xander's thing, not mine. His dark hair matched his eyes, and even with the uniform on I could tell he had a lean and athletic build.

He was handsome.

I glanced at his feet, then his chest, and noticed his oh-so-attractive arms. Finally, my eyes landed on his face. He was wearing a soft smile, and fuck, I could feel my cheeks turning red.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," I answered without thinking twice.

Suddenly, his eyes became worried... for me, I realized. "Are you doing alright?"

Uh... What is happening and why am I still standing here?

Move. Run, Amara, what the fuck?!

The soldier looked behind him before his dark eyes returned back to me. "An answer would be appreciated although I enjoy you looking at me like a creep," he chuckled at his joke. I didn't. I couldn't. I was pretty sure I froze completely the moment I answered him. "Okayyy... I'm really worried now. Should I call your brother, or the nurse, or your father—Hey! Where are you going?"

I ran away, like a scaredy-cat. The ultimate fucking scaredy-cat.

You can make fun of me or laugh at me all you want, but I got overwhelmed.

Talking to a man scared me.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

An hour later, and my buzz wore off. I was in my bedroom, as always. The walls were lined with maps and tactical diagrams, my white desk was cluttered with books and notes (and a cup filled with vodka). I moved from my bed to settle in my chair when a sharp knock interrupted me around 10:30.

Frowning, I crossed the room to the door, yanking it open thinking it'd be my idiotic brother, and it was.

Aaron stepped in, his expression a mix of irritation and concern. "Amara, we need to talk."

"About what?" I snapped, glaring at him. "How bad your daddy issues' getting?"

He rolled his eyes. "Because you have none of those, right?"

Touché.

"At least mine aren't as bad and pathetic as yours," I replied with a fake smile.

"Can we just drop the attitude for once," he ignored my snarky comeback with a wave of his hand. "We have bigger issues."

My blood turned cold at the thought of the worst possible scenario: Father coming home. I fought to keep my expression neutral, determined not to show any weakness. I needed to play the big sister role, even though my behavior moments ago didn't exactly fit the bill.

I leaned back in my chair, trying to appear nonchalant. "Fine. What's happening?"

Aaron took a deep breath, clearly trying to maintain his composure. "I have something important to tell you, but I need you to hear me out until the end. Promise you won't freak out? I've thought this through, and it's not me being 'manipulated,' as you like to say. Alright?"

I narrowed my eyes, suspicious but nodded. "Go on."

Aaron hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I want to bring Juliette Ferrars here. At the base."

For a moment, his words didn't register. Then, like a flood, the implications hit me. "Come again!" My eyes widened, and I felt a surge of anger and fear. "You what?" I shouted, my voice rising with each word. "Are you out of your fucking mind? Juliette Ferrars? The girl with some lethal fucking powers?"

Aaron raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Amara, listen to me. She's not as dangerous as you think—"

"Not as dangerous?" I cut him off, my voice shaking with fury. "Are you insane? We have kids here! What if she does something to one of them? What if she kills one of them—or both of them?"

"She won't." Aaron said firmly. "I'll take precautions. She'll be under constant supervision."

"Oh, great. So we have a ticking time bomb under constant supervision. That makes me feel so much fucking better—do you hear yourself, Aaron?"

"Just hear me out," he pleaded. "I believe she can help us. She has powers that we can use—"

"Powers that can kill!" I screamed, unable to contain my rage. "How can you even consider bringing her here? With Jenna and Xander around? What if something goes wrong? What if she loses control? What if you piss her off and she goes at you?"

"She won't."

"Oh yeah, 'cause you know everything, am I right?"

"I know she won't harm any of us because she sees herself as an outcast, avoiding any physical contact with others. She doesn't let anyone touch her. Her own fear of herself reassures me that she won't pose any harm to the kids, to you." He approached me and gently placed his hands on my shoulders, thinking it'd appease me but it makes me even more tense. "If I knew she'd be a potential danger to the three of you I would have never considered her coming here."

"We've got two kids with us, Aaron..."

"I'm aware of that," he nodded. "I trust her enough to not—"

And somehow, this strung a nerve inside of me. "Well, I don't. I don't trust her!" I yelled, standing up so abruptly that my chair toppled over. "I won't let you risk our family for some... some experiment. Are you suddenly blind? Has she done something to you? Has she manipulated you?"

Aaron's jaw tightened, and he met my gaze with a steely resolve. "I am not being manipulated. This is my decision. And I believe it's the right one."

"Well, you're wrong," my hands clenched into fists. "You're putting everyone in danger. For what? One of your many stupid plans? She is a killer, Aaron! Do you hear me?"

"I'm trying to do what's best for all of us. Please, just trust me on this."

"I want to, Aaron. I really do want to trust you. So badly," I said quietly. "But how can I trust you when you're bringing a threat into our home?"

He took a step forward, his expression earnest. "I know you're scared but I've thought this through. Juliette can help us."

"No, she can't. We need to protect our family." I pointed to the wall separating my room and the kids'. "Those kids in there count on us every day to protect them from what's happening outside. They've only got us, that's all they've ever known and I'm not disappointing them. Bringing her is the exact opposite of that."

"'Mara, please," he said softly, pleading. "Just give her a chance."

I shook my head, unable to believe what I was hearing. "I won't and I can't. You're making a huge mistake, Aaron." I lifted up my head to look him straight in the eyes. "But just know that if anything were to happen to Jenna or Xander, I'll never forgive you."

Aaron's face hardened, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Amara, you need to trust me. Juliette is different from what you've heard. I've seen her, spoken to her. She's harmless."

"And you think that's enough?" I shot back. "A few conversations, and suddenly you're an expert on her? This isn't just about us, or your desire to fulfill some plan. It's about those kids in there. They depend on us for their safety. How can you gamble with their lives?"

"I am not—You know what? I am done talking to you." Aaron sighed as he ran his hands through his hair. "You are not listening to a word I'm saying and as usual this won't go anywhere."

He let his arms fall to his sides and gave me one last glance before turning away and closing the door with a loud thud. After he was gone, I sank back into my chair, struggling to process everything that had just happened. My mind swirled with thoughts of my brother, Juliette Ferrars, and the kids. The vodka in my cup wasn't helping as much as I'd hoped.

WHAT I WANT TO SAY !

🎀

hello. amarakenji real interaction AAAAHHHH 😰🫣🗣️

amara being so fkn scared of juliette... i mean id be too ngl like???? miss girl just touches ppl and they drop dead yuh id be terrified ☝️

just to clarify btw, in no shape or form am i romanticizing alcoholism. this is serious and seriously sad. amara being an alcoholic slightly is important to her character as its the product of what she is going thru.

anyway. the chapters will get lighter and more fun i promise ITS JUST THE BEGINNING AND THEYRE ALWAYS SO BORING IM SORRRYYY

hope you enjoyed this chapter.

written. 4th february, 2023
posted. 8th june, 2023
rewrite. 1st august, 2024