A friend will always remain a friend no matter how much they die fighting.

-Unknown

-

AS SHE FOLLOWED along the familiar path, trees, thick and high, hanging over her, the soft splatter only grew. She continued near until she made out the hefty stones, each aligned to the lake and crooked around the edges. For a moment, Amora closed her eyes, taking in deep breathes.

Whatever happens, it'll be fine...

When she opened them, looking out into the night, Amora caught glimpse of something overhead; something floating in the lake, limp and out-of-place: golden locks.

Her heart dropped.

"Willow!" Amora dropped her purse, then scurried on. As she loomed over the lake, staring at its surface, she again found the golden locks... then the body, face down. A moment of waiting and enough was enough.

This wasn't a prank.

Amora leaped in and was hit by the frigid water, then squinted and shivered. Only when she found her body, a few feet over, could she breathe.

It's probably too late. As she tugged Willow back, arms around her waist, Amora could only think of these four words. It's probably too late.

"You're gonna be okay, Willow." With a grunt, she dragged her friend fully out, resting her over the dirt ground with strays of grass. "You're gonna be just fine..."

For a moment, Amora searched her face for a sign - anything.

There was nothing.

She tapped her cheek, lightly at first, but ended it with a slap.

Still, nothing.

That was when she did what she most feared. Lifting a hand, she placed a finger over her neck, checking for a pulse. The first thing she noticed was that her skin was warm, so there was a chance. The second thing she noticed was the lack of pulse.

But that wasn't possible.

She had come, just like her mother said; just like she had predicted.

Only, maybe Amora was too late.

It was in that moment - in that very second - she reached into her pocket when a horror came to her face. I had thrown it out the window.

If there was even a chance she'd miraculously survive, it was gone... All because she got drunk.

As she began CPR, fingers interlocked, Amora pressed down over her chest. From time to time, she'd pause to breathe into her mouth and pinch her nose. All the while, she blinked back tears until she couldn't anymore.

A minute more and she drew back, on her knees, struggling to breathe. As she wailed into the night, face wet with tears, she could only think one thing:

I just killed my best friend.

-

After passing through the automated doors, Amora stopped and clutched her purse. The cushioned chairs, now in a single row facing the front desk, were clustered together. As for the plants, which used to be plastic and fake, were instead real. The fan to her left, meanwhile, didn't just off that obnoxious hum anymore. In fact, it gave off no sound at all.

Her mind reeled. It'd been the same way all these years, so why change it all now?

"Hey, are you gonna come over here, or what?"

Amora stiffened then huffed.

The lady at the front desk, standing behind thin glass, was waving a hand. "I don't got all day!"

After nearing the desk, slow but even, Amora stopped and sighed. You're gonna control yourself. You don't want to start anyt-

"Well?"

Amora had had enough.

"Listen here, Karen, I'm been through a lot lately and I'm not in the mood for your dam-"

The lady shushed her out, finger to lips, and smiled. "You sure your mother would like that language? She may have Alzheimer's, but that would be disappointing for any mother to hear, dear."

Her heart dropped at the last word. That was what her mother always called her.

"So," the lady continued, chuckling, "I suggest we get through this part like the adults we are."

Amora only stared back, stumbling for words.

"Well?"

A beat later and she gave a stiff nod. "I'm here to see Kara Kinley."

"Room 23, dear..."

-

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Mom?" For a moment, she listened to the steady beeping of the heart monitor. "Did you hear me?"

The woman remained silent as she stared. The television, which loomed from the ceiling, gave a low murmur as it flashed black and white, static...

This had been going on for several minutes.

"Mom, I messed up and I'm sorry," she said again.

Still, there was nothing.

"Mom? Did you hear me?" Amora swallowed hard, looking to her feet. "I just... I need you to tell me everything's fine. I messed up bad and I really need someone there." She blinked back tears. "I-I don't care that you'll forget by tomorrow, but... I just need you to look at me. Even if you're not all there; even if your mind's on today's breakfast, I just need you to do that for me. That way I can pretend, Mom, because I can't take this anymore!"

There was silence.

Amora waited for another beat, fiddling her fingers. Her mother should have turned her way by now, giving that signature smile. It was what she always did. After all, she was her successful daughter.

But little did she know the truth: Amora was actually a disappointment; someone who had listened too little, too late.

Willow.

At the thought of her friend's name, she plopped down to the nearest chair, plastic and worn, then held her face.

"Dear?"

Amora stiffened as she looked up. "Mom, you're back?"

Now, her mother was on the edge of the bed, leaned in and searching her. "You always were a serious girl, even as a kid, but this time I can see the tears. Normally, you hide them well..."

Amora fumbled to her feet. Was it even possible for her to change position so quickly?

That was when the soft, steady beeping became sharp and irregular.

After looking back from the monitor, mouth hanging, Amora was met by narrow, beady eyes. "Mom, w-what's with that look?" This place was already eerie and cold. "Why are you acting so strange?"

"You killed your best friend, Amora. Admit it."

"What?" Amora shuttered as she staggered back. "How... how did you know?!"

In response, her mother gave a crooked smile, then snickered. "I just know things, remember? Besides, you've recently been reminded by this, weren't you?"

"I-"

"Honestly, dear, from the moment I opened my mouth, telling you my vision, I knew it would be in vain. I knew that you'd still avoid your friend by all means possible... and I was right."

"Mom, shut it!" Back to door, Amora held up a hand as her face twisted. "I just-"

"What, you want me to say everything's fine?" her mother snapped.

Amora, with a strangled sob, slid down the door, then hugged her knees. "Tell me to wake up..."

"Tick tick. Tick tick-"

"I said tell me to wake up," Amora said, burying her head in her arms, "please!"

And just like that, it was silent.

After a long moment, too shaken to look, she lifted her head. "Mom?"

Her mother, now giving a heavy frown, slowly shook her head. "You really think this is a dream?"

Amora remained silent, looking for a sign - anything - that she was bluffing. "Yes, I do."

"Then wake up."

-

Amora shot upright.

After gripping the plastic chair's arms, in which she sat, the woman sprang to her feet.

White walls. Sterile floors. That familiar warm, stuffy odor. And a static television...

When the events of last night came back, Amora closed her eyes and took some deep breaths. Soon enough, she was looking in the direction of the bed and hugging herself.

Willow.

From head to toe, she was covered with bandaged bruises. Under those sheets, pulled up halfway, hands placed at sides, she just looked so fragile; like a single touch would tip her over the edge. The worst part, though, was the oxygen mask.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

To the left of her bed was the heart monitor, its beeping slow and even.

At least she was alive.

Before peering at the chair beside hers, she ran a hand down her face. Whatever happens, it'll be fine...

There, giving an easy smile, was Faya, head in hand. "You were only asleep a couple hours. You didn't miss anything."

With a small smile back, Amora nodded and sat back down. "Faya?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you here?"

Hey there! I know I took a while to post this and I apologize. I just wasn't motivated, I suppose, because I wanted this to be written well. Even after long hours of editing, I still miss things, so please don't hesitate to let me know of any mistakes.

Oh, and there's something I'd like to note: during the italicized bits, the words that were like these - straightened - are meant to be emphasized. I hope this was clear.

Anyway, it's time for some more questions! These are again about the story:

1) Was it too obvious that visiting her mother was a dream?

2) Did I make that visit seem eerie, or was it underwhelming?

3) Lastly, what dynamic do you think Faya will add?

In case you forgot, by the way, Faya was the friend that Amora betrayed and blocked five years ago.

Well, I hope you're doing good and God bless. <3