...
~always, and forever
...

Amalia entered her small house quietly, the shaking of her metal keys was the only sound heard as she walked inside.

She licked her lips and shut the door behind her, placing her keys on one of the counters, she later brought herself to the living room where her older brother John, laid.

"Hello sis, how you feeling?" He asked her once he turned around to see who came inside - his tv show long forgotten as his worried gaze fell on her, Amalia shrugged slowly.

"How am I supposed to feel?" She asked, directing her hostile personality towards her brother, whom also couldn't break down the walls she has created. He frowned.

"Sorry for asking, Amalia, I was just curious." He whispered sadly, his fingers twisting around awkwardly as he watched his sister with worry filled eyes, she scowled and shook her head, her dark hair swayed carelessly.

"Well don't be John." She bit back, her behavior wasn't purposeful; she doesn't mean to hurt her brothers feelings but she couldn't stop herself from acting out, badly.

He nodded his head apologetically, his messy, dark hair flew back and forth with his movements and his brown eyes narrowed.

"Where's mom?" Amalia asked as she made way towards the couch he sat on, John sighed and bit his inner cheek, not knowing how to answer without upsetting his younger sister.

"You don't have to answer — your face says it all John — she's out drinking again, isn't she?" Amalia asked with distaste dripping from her voice, John nodded hesitantly; Amalia's brows furrowed and she shook her head in disgust.

"One day, that alcohol will kick in and losing dad won't be her only problem — her own death will be." She spat out before walking away from the living room and going up the stairs, not giving her brother a chance to speak and say something — anything, to change her mindset.

While she stomped off she grumbled angrily under her breath, shaking her head from time to time while playing with the soft material of her dress.

"I can't believe this." She muttered under her breath before angrily slamming the door of her room closed, the sound vibrated against the walls of her rooms and rang in John's ears as he kept his gaze on the stairs that Amalia had stomped off on.

He shook his head and took the remote in his hand, changing the channel that previously seemed interesting at first sight.

...

Later on that night, the sound of the front door opening echoed in the quiet halls of the Lynch house and Amalia sprung off her bed as if it was on fire.

She had changed from that baggy, light blue dress into short pajama shorts and a cotton, basic teeshirt with her hair up into a messy ponytail.

"John?! Amalia?! B-bring me something — something to eat!" The slurred words mixed with her mothers voice made Amalia cringe and sigh before leaving her room slowly — hesitantly.

Her feet patted against the cold, wooden floor and every little step made the old floor creak, and she knew that her mother must've heard her.

Her mother was walking closer towards the kitchen, her steps weren't balanced or straight and she tripped slightly — with her hand in her long, black hair itching it softly she made way towards the stools in front of the long, marble island.

"Mother? Please keep it down." John whispered warily, unsure if he should get close to his intoxicated mother who for sure was too unaware of what she was doing — so she could act harshly, while under the influence.

"Oh look whose here." Amalia muttered in distaste as she eyed her mother with disgust, her lips curled up into a scowl when she noticed the sway in her mothers body.

"Hello, d-daughter." Her mother spat out with a hiccup that shook her whole body, making her tip sideways and almost fall, but John caught and steadied her, making Amalia roll her eyes.

"Look at yourself, pathetic." Amalia stated angrily, her eyes roaming her mothers fully intoxicated body. There was awkward tension in the air, John held his mothers body but was unaware if he should step in before things get out of hand.

"I — I am your m-mother! Do — do not speak to m-me like that!" Her mother yelled out with a scolding finger, Amalia chuckled humorlessly while shaking her head, a narrowed look in her eyes.

"You can't even speak right, so don't scold me." Amalia bit out in frustration, she sighed when she noticed her mothers eyes dropping — her mother scoffed before pulling herself out of John's arms.

"huh?" John muttered under his breath nervously, watching his frail, mother jump off the stool and shakily land on her feet, her eyes were closed halfway but she looked awake.

She came closer towards Amalia, around the island and later in front of it; they were glaring at one another and Amalia could smell the alcohol off of her mother and she scrunched up her face while stepping one foot away.

"Do not speak to me like that!" Amalia's mother yelled out, her words were clear and they were loud enough for the neighbors to hear, John cringed and shook his head, wanting to step in but he seemed frozen as he watched them.

"Like what? Like this? You deserve it!" Amalia retorted angrily, her thick eyebrows furrowed and her face hardened as her eyes roamed her mothers face once again, her mother shook her head slowly.

"I am your mother!" She yelled out, completely enraged and unaware of how angry she had really gotten but before anyone knew it, her mothers hand flew back and later connected with Amalia's cheek making her head fly to the side with a loud smack echoing in the room.

John covered his mouth with his hands and his wide gaze was on his mother, he was shocked to say the least but Amalia wasn't, she just held her cheek tightly while gazing at her mother in pity.

"I hate you so much, remember this day because today you lost your daughter and one-hundred percent made dad turn in his grave." Amalia spat out in the most hate filled voice anyone heard her speak in, her mother flinched but she didn't react, her eyes drooped and suddenly, her body collided with the ground as she passed out making Amalia scoff, all while rubbing her tingling cheek.

She shook her head and turned to look at a pale faced John, he frowned and moved his hands to his sides, slowly walking closer towards his mother.

"Bring her to her room, or anywhere — I don't care to be honest, but do not bring her near me." Amalia spat out before turning around swiftly and once again stomping away with a familiar aching pain in her chest.

Her brother didn't notice that her eyes had welled up, but he did notice the way her voice cracked when she spoke, and he knew that his sister was falling even more apart then she already was.

He shook his head before pulling his mother up from the ground and bringing her frail body towards the couch, where he laid her down and watched her pitifully.

He covered her with one of the shaggy blankets they kept on the side of the couch and pulled away from her quickly.

"You really messed up mom — like really, really." He whispered sadly while once again shaking his head, his hand running through his hair angrily before walking away from the area where he one-hundred percent lost his sister even more.

Guilt ate him alive as he hesitantly made way up the staircase, and beside his sisters room where the lowest whimpers came from, making his heart ache.

He sighed and rubbed his hands together while letting his head hang, before walking away from his sisters door and into his own room — where he too spilled his own tears under the covers of his heavy, blanket.

Amalia on the other hand, was huddled up into the corner of her wall, the room to her door was locked and her glossy, gaze was on the open window across from her bed, where there was evident view of the trees in her backyard and the dark, empty sky.

"I miss you daddy, it's not the same without you." She whispered as a bright, single star showed up in the empty, night sky, her cheek still tingled and a red, handprint already formed on her pale skin.

All night her body shook, and she cried her eyes out, something she's been doing for a while now and her brother joined in on the perfect harmony while their mother slept on the bed like a — fully intoxicated — baby.

Somethings will last forever and always, she thought as she leaned her head against the wall and allowed the tears to trail down her cheeks, the bright star gazed back at her, and comforted her silently .. without doing anything.