chapter nine:
❛ alessia begins (911 inspire) ❜

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!
COMMENT AND VOTE

choi min-young as tommy

tw: mentions of drug addiction and alcholism

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

Alessia stepped out of the comic store, her arms brimming with new issues she had been waiting to get her hands on for weeks. The cool air of the mall hit her, and she took a deep breath, smiling to herself. The familiar chatter of shoppers and the soft hum of mall music filled the air, making it feel like another perfect Saturday with Eli and Demetri.

She glanced back at the comic store, seeing Eli and Demetri still inside, deep in their usual bickering over some comic book plotline. Eli was always shy, usually hanging back, while Demetri, as always, had a smart mouth and a sharp opinion on everything. Alessia chuckled, knowing it wouldn't be long before they'd both come to find her.

Not paying attention to where she was going, she walked headfirst into someone, nearly dropping her stack of comics.

"Oh—" Alessia gasped, steadying herself, her heart skipping a beat.

"Whoa, sorry about that!" a voice said. Alessia looked up to see a boy around her age standing in front of her, an easy grin on his face. He had dark hair that fell slightly into his eyes, and his friends, who stood a few feet behind him, were laughing and messing around loudly.

For a moment, Alessia froze, her cheeks flushing slightly. The boy smiled down at her, his eyes scanning the comics in her hands, then meeting her gaze again.

"It's okay," Alessia mumbled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and giving him a small, nervous smile.

The boy's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You into comics?" he asked, his voice casual but warm, nodding toward the stack of issues she held.

"Yeah, I come here a lot," Alessia replied softly, still a little flustered. The noise of the mall seemed to fade, her attention solely on him.

"Cool," the boy said, shifting his weight. "I'm Tommy, by the way."

"Alessia," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, but there was something about Tommy that made her feel a little braver.

Tommy glanced back at his friends, who were still goofing off behind him, but he didn't seem to care. He pulled out his phone and held it up. "Hey, you wanna, like, exchange numbers? Maybe we could hang out sometime, grab a coffee or something."

Alessia hesitated, feeling her heart thudding in her chest. She wasn't used to boys being this forward with her, but Tommy seemed nice. Genuine, even. "Uh, sure," she said, her voice still small, but she found herself smiling a bit more.

They quickly exchanged numbers, and Tommy shot her another grin before walking back to his friends, who immediately started teasing him, though Alessia couldn't quite make out what they were saying. She stood there for a moment, watching them walk away, a strange mix of excitement and nerves bubbling inside her.

Just then, Eli and Demetri came out of the comic store, each carrying their own stack of comics. Eli looked over at Alessia, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed the group of boys she had just been talking to. Demetri, as usual, wasn't one to hold back.

"Who was that?" Demetri asked, glancing over at Tommy and his friends as they disappeared around a corner.

Alessia smiled, a little shy. "His name's Tommy. He was really nice—we exchanged numbers."

Demetri stopped in his tracks, his mouth falling open in disbelief. "You gave him your number? That guy? He looks like bad news, Alessia."

Eli, quiet as always but clearly uncomfortable, nodded in agreement. "Yeah... I don't know, Alessia. He didn't seem like someone you should... trust."

Alessia looked between them, confused. "What are you talking about? He was nice."

Demetri scoffed, crossing his arms. "Nice? Alessia, please. His friends were acting like total idiots. You didn't hear them, but they were saying some seriously sketchy stuff. Guys like that? They're either in gangs, selling drugs, or both."

Alessia frowned, rolling her eyes at Demetri's usual dramatics. "Come on, Demetri. Just because his friends were loud doesn't mean they're dangerous. Tommy seemed fine to me."

Demetri gave her a skeptical look, lowering his voice as they walked through the mall. "Alessia, I know you don't want to hear this, but trust me, I can read people. That guy? He's trouble. And the last thing you need is to get mixed up with someone who's gonna drag you into all kinds of problems."

Alessia sighed, shaking her head. "You're overreacting. I don't think he's like that at all. He was polite, he apologized for bumping into me, and he wasn't even pushy or rude."

Eli exchanged another worried glance with Demetri, staying silent, but his expression said enough—he didn't trust Tommy either.

Demetri wasn't about to let it go. "I'm telling you, Alessia, this is how it starts. First, it's all casual and friendly, and then, next thing you know, you're hanging out behind the mall with a bunch of guys selling stolen electronics out of a car."

Alessia couldn't help but laugh, even though Demetri's concern was obvious. "You really have an overactive imagination, Demetri. I think you're just being paranoid."

Demetri huffed, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you when this Tommy guy turns out to be trouble."

Alessia smiled, brushing it off, though there was a tiny seed of doubt now planted in the back of her mind. Still, she wasn't about to let Demetri's pessimism ruin the moment. "You worry too much. I'm sure he's fine."

Eli, still fidgeting, gave her a soft smile. "Just... be careful, okay?"

She nodded, appreciating Eli's concern, but she wasn't ready to let their overprotective attitudes sway her judgment. After all, it was just a phone number. Nothing more.

As they continued walking through the mall, Demetri muttering under his breath about the dangers of shady boys, Alessia's thoughts kept drifting back to Tommy. She couldn't help but wonder if her friends were right—but at the same time, something about Tommy intrigued her. He didn't seem like bad news to her.

It had been weeks since Alessia had last spoken to Eli or Demetri. The easygoing hangouts and comic store trips that used to be a weekend ritual had all but vanished from her life. Now, it was all Tommy.

Tommy, with his confident grin and rebellious edge, had become her world. She felt drawn to him in a way that was hard to explain—maybe it was the thrill, the rush of being with someone who seemed to live life on the edge. But lately, that edge had started to feel more like a cliff, and Alessia wasn't sure where she stood anymore.

That night, though, everything blurred into one chaotic mess. She couldn't remember much: there was a party, Tommy's friends, too many drinks, and something else... something stronger that Tommy had offered her. The last thing Alessia remembered was laughing uncontrollably, feeling weightless, before everything went dark.

When she woke up, she wasn't sure where she was. Her head was pounding, her body aching, and the cold air chilled her skin. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, realizing she was on a porch—a familiar one. She struggled to sit up, her mind foggy as she looked around in confusion. It wasn't until she saw the door swing open that it hit her: she was at Eli's house.

Eli, standing in the doorway, looked at her with wide, worried eyes. "Alessia?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with shock and concern.

Behind him, Demetri appeared, crossing his arms but looking just as stunned. "Dude, she's awake," Demetri muttered, nudging Eli.

Alessia rubbed her temples, trying to piece together how she got there. "What... what am I doing here?" she mumbled, her voice thick and slurred. She felt sick to her stomach, but she couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the realization of where she was.

"You don't remember?" Eli asked softly, stepping closer. "We found you passed out on the porch, Alessia. You've been out cold for hours."

Alessia's eyes darted around, still in a haze. She tried to stand, but her legs wobbled, and Eli quickly reached out to steady her. "I—how did I get here? Where's Tommy?"

Eli and Demetri exchanged a look, both of their faces tight with concern. Demetri was the one to speak up, his voice a little sharper than Eli's. "We don't know where Tommy is. We've never even met him, other than seeing him walk past once. But that's not the point. What the hell happened to you, Alessia?"

Alessia blinked, feeling a surge of anger rise in her chest. "I... I'm fine. I don't know why you're making such a big deal about this," she said, her words defensive, even though her head was spinning and her body felt like it had been run over by a truck.

Demetri scoffed. "Fine? You passed out drunk and high on Eli's porch. That's not fine, Alessia."

Eli, ever the gentler of the two, shook his head. "We're worried about you, Alessia. This isn't like you. You've been... different ever since you started dating Tommy. We haven't seen you in weeks. You barely talk to us anymore, and now this?"

Alessia's frustration boiled over. "Oh, so this is about you two being mad that I'm not spending every waking moment with you? You're jealous that I have a boyfriend now, is that it?" She wrenched her arm away from Eli's support and took a shaky step back.

Eli's face fell, hurt flashing in his eyes. "That's not what this is about."

Demetri, however, wasn't one to back down. "We don't give a damn if you have a boyfriend, Alessia. What we care about is that you're with someone who's clearly bad news. We don't know what kind of guy Tommy is, but from what we've seen and heard, he doesn't seem like someone who's looking out for you. And now look at you! You're passed out on a porch after God knows what. This isn't you."

Alessia's head throbbed, the weight of their words pushing her deeper into her anger. She wasn't about to let them guilt-trip her, not when she felt so vulnerable. "You don't know Tommy! You don't know anything about him. He cares about me—he's been there for me in ways you two never could."

Eli's voice cracked as he tried to stay calm. "We care about you, Alessia. We always have."

She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes as a mix of rage and guilt overwhelmed her. "I don't need your concern. I'm fine. I can take care of myself."

Demetri frowned, his face hardening. "It doesn't look like it."

The words cut deep, but Alessia refused to show it. She turned away from them, her fists clenched as she tried to block out the overwhelming emotions swirling inside her. "You don't get it. You'll never get it."

Eli took a step forward, desperation in his voice. "Alessia, we're not trying to hurt you. We're just scared. Scared that you're with someone who doesn't have your best interests at heart."

Alessia whipped around, her eyes blazing. "You don't know him. Stop acting like you do! Just... just leave me alone. I don't need this."

With that, she stumbled away from the porch, her heart racing. She didn't look back, even though part of her wanted to. But the overwhelming mix of shame, anger, and confusion kept her moving, even as Eli's voice called out one last time.

"Alessia, please..."

But she was already gone, lost in the fog of her own mind, and the distance she had put between them felt wider than ever before.

It had been two months, and Alessia was caught in a destructive cycle—one she couldn't seem to break. This was the seventh time she'd shown up at Eli's house in the middle of the night, passed out drunk and high. Eli had started to expect it by now, but that didn't make it any easier. Every time he found her like that, it chipped away at him a little more.

That morning was no different. Alessia awoke on the couch in Eli's living room, her head pounding, her mouth dry, and her stomach twisting painfully. She barely managed to sit up before the nausea overwhelmed her, and she lurched forward, vomiting into a bucket Eli had placed beside her.

The smell made her gag even more, and the pain behind her eyes was relentless. She could still feel the alcohol coursing through her system, making her dizzy and disoriented. The room felt like it was spinning.

Eli was sitting nearby, his face tight with a mix of frustration, concern, and something else—something that Alessia wasn't used to seeing in his normally soft, shy expression. He wasn't saying anything, just watching her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable.

When Alessia finally managed to catch her breath and wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, she leaned back against the couch, trying to pull herself together. "Thanks for... helping me," she muttered, her voice hoarse.

Eli didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stood up and crossed his arms, pacing a little before stopping in front of her. He took a deep breath, as if gathering his courage.

"Alessia," he began, his voice steady but firm, "this has to stop."

Alessia blinked, her head still spinning, but now from his tone more than anything. She hadn't expected that. She hadn't expected him to speak to her like this. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice defensive.

"This," Eli said, gesturing to the bucket, the couch, her. "You showing up here like this. This is the seventh time, Alessia. I can't... I can't keep doing this."

She stared at him, anger bubbling up in her chest. "You can't keep doing this?" she repeated, her voice rising. "I didn't ask you to take care of me, Eli."

Eli shook his head, his eyes full of disappointment. "No, you didn't. But I did because I care about you. Because you're my friend. But this—this isn't you, Alessia. You're not like this."

Alessia scoffed, though it was weaker than she intended. "You don't know anything about me."

"Yes, I do," Eli shot back, surprising her with his sudden assertiveness. "I know that ever since you started dating Tommy, you've changed. You've been drinking, getting high, and doing who knows what else. You don't even talk to me or Demetri anymore. The only time we see you is when you're passed out on my porch, and I'm done with it."

Alessia clenched her jaw, a wave of defensiveness crashing over her. "You don't know Tommy. He's a good guy. You're just jealous because I don't hang out with you guys anymore."

Eli's face hardened. "This isn't about jealousy, Alessia. This is about you ruining your life over some guy who doesn't care about you. I've seen what he's like—he doesn't care about anyone but himself."

Alessia narrowed her eyes, feeling the heat of anger and alcohol-fueled irritation. "You don't get it. Tommy cares about me. He's the only one who gets me. You don't know what it's like."

Eli took a step closer, his eyes locking onto hers with a seriousness that made her uncomfortable. "I know what it's like to watch someone you care about destroy themselves. I know what it's like to feel helpless when your friend is spiraling. And I know that Tommy is bad news. He's dragging you down, and if you don't see that, you're going to lose everything."

Alessia bristled. "You don't know anything about my life."

Eli's voice dropped lower, more controlled but firm. "I know enough to see what's happening. You need help, Alessia. You need to go to rehab."

Alessia's stomach churned, both from the lingering alcohol and his words. "Rehab?" she spat, disbelief flashing in her eyes. "I don't need rehab."

Eli didn't flinch. "Yes, you do. And you need to break up with Tommy."

Alessia shot up from the couch, though she swayed slightly from the sudden movement. "Who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do?"

"I'm your friend, Alessia," Eli said quietly, holding her gaze. "And I'm trying to help you before it's too late."

"Help me?" Alessia snapped. "You think breaking up with Tommy is going to solve everything? You think rehab is going to fix me?"

Eli's expression didn't waver. "It's a start."

Alessia stared at him, her breath coming in short, angry bursts. How could he stand there, acting like he knew what was best for her? Like he had any right to tell her what to do with her life?

"You don't know anything about me or my relationship with Tommy," she said, her voice shaking with a mix of rage and pain. "You're just... you're just some scared kid who's too shy to stand up for himself. You don't get to lecture me."

Eli flinched at that, but he didn't back down. "Maybe I am shy. Maybe I've never stood up for myself before, but I'm standing up now. You're not yourself anymore, Alessia, and it scares me. It scares Demetri. But we can't make you do anything. Only you can decide to get help."

Alessia shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. "I don't need your help. I don't need you or Demetri. You don't know me anymore."

Eli's shoulders slumped, his expression softening, but the resolve in his eyes remained. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't know you like I used to. But I know enough to know that the person you're becoming isn't who you really are."

Alessia felt the tears welling up, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she pushed past him, her voice shaking with anger and hurt. "Stay out of my life, Eli. I don't need you."

Eli watched her leave, his heart heavy as the door slammed behind her. He didn't call after her this time. He knew she wouldn't listen.

For the next few days, Alessia didn't speak to Eli or Demetri. She threw herself back into Tommy's world, shutting out the voices in her head that told her maybe—just maybe—they were right. But that gnawing feeling of doubt was always there, no matter how hard she tried to drown it out.

The summer sun filtered through the small, barred window of Alessia's rehab room, casting long shadows on the walls. The room was stark and utilitarian—no personal touches, just the basics. Alessia lay on the narrow bed, staring at the ceiling with a vacant expression. The overdose had been a wake-up call, forcing her into this rehabilitation center she had resisted for so long. She felt lost, a stranger in her own life.

Rehab was tough. The structured routines, the therapy sessions, the constant reminders of her failures—it was all overwhelming. Every day was a battle, and Alessia felt like she was losing. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, often drifting back to Tommy. Despite everything, she missed him with a desperate ache. The addiction, the chaos—it all seemed to make more sense when he was around, even if that sense was twisted and harmful.

Eli and Demetri had come to visit her a few times. Their attempts to reach out, to offer support, were met with resistance. Alessia had turned them away each time. She couldn't bear to face them—couldn't face their disappointment or the judgment she was sure they saw in their eyes. They had been there for her when she was at her worst, but now, in the sterile confines of rehab, their presence felt like a painful reminder of her failures.

She had hoped for a familiar face from home, but her mother never came. The thought of her mother—absent in this crucial moment—was a constant source of pain. Alessia often wondered why her mother hadn't come, why she was so absent from this part of her life. She couldn't shake the feeling of abandonment, the weight of her mother's silence.

Her sister, Luciana, had visited a few times. Luciana had come all the way from Minnesota, balancing the long trip with her responsibilities at home. Alessia appreciated Luciana's efforts, even though the visits were bittersweet. They were a reminder of what she had lost and the life she had left behind. During one of these visits, Luna had tried to offer comfort, but Alessia had waved her concerns away.

"You should go back to your family," Alessia had said one day, her voice tired but resolute. "I'll be okay. I don't want you to keep making this long trip just for me. You have your kids and your husband to think about."

Luciana had looked at her with sadness in her eyes. "You know I'd come every day if I could. But if you really think it's better for me to go home, then I'll respect that."

As Luciana left, Alessia felt a pang of regret. She had pushed her sister away, even though she needed her. It was just one more thing she felt she had to endure alone. Each day in rehab felt like a century, filled with a monotony that tested her resolve.

The days dragged on, filled with group therapy sessions and individual counseling. Alessia struggled through them, fighting the urge to shut down. The process was slow, and there were moments when she felt like giving up. But she knew she couldn't—there was no going back to the chaos of her old life. She had to keep moving forward, even if it felt like she was inching along.

Tommy was a ghost in her mind—both a source of comfort and a painful reminder of what she had lost. She clung to the memories of him, even though they were tinged with regret. Sometimes, she wondered if he even thought about her, if he missed her at all.

Despite everything, Alessia knew she had to face the reality of her situation. The path to recovery was fraught with challenges, but it was the only way forward. It wasn't just about breaking free from addiction; it was about finding herself again, learning to live without the crutches of substances or toxic relationships.

And though it was hard, Alessia took solace in the small victories—each day she managed to stay clean, each therapy session where she felt a glimmer of understanding. She was slowly beginning to rebuild, brick by brick, trying to rediscover who she was beyond the pain and the addiction.

As she sat on the edge of her bed, staring out the window at the endless summer sky, Alessia took a deep breath. She was still far from okay, but she was trying—trying to hold onto hope and to find a way out of the darkness that had consumed her.

Alessia stepped out of the rehab facility, the warm summer air greeting her with an intensity that felt almost overwhelming after the sterile confinement she had grown accustomed to. Her heart raced with a mix of relief and anxiety. The freedom she had yearned for was finally hers, but it came with a heavy weight of responsibility and the haunting uncertainty of her future.

Tommy was waiting for her just outside the gates, leaning casually against his car. The sight of him filled Alessia with an odd sense of comfort, a fleeting illusion of safety that she hadn't realized she missed so much. His familiar smile, though tinged with a touch of nervousness, made her feel as if she could slip back into her old life with ease.

"Alessia!" Tommy called out, pushing himself off the car and walking towards her with open arms. "You're out. I missed you."

As he enveloped her in a hug, Alessia felt the warmth of his embrace, the way he held her with a possessive gentleness. The world outside seemed to collapse around them, leaving only the familiar cadence of Tommy's voice and the comfort of his touch.

"I missed you too," Alessia murmured, her voice trembling slightly. "I...I didn't think I'd ever get out."

Tommy pulled back slightly, looking at her with a mix of relief and concern. "You look tired. Are you okay?"

Alessia forced a smile, though the truth was far more complicated. "I'm just... glad to be out. It was hard in there."

Tommy nodded, but there was something in his eyes that made Alessia uneasy. "I've been thinking about you the whole time. I'm really glad you're back."

Without waiting for her to respond, Tommy took her hand and led her to the car. The drive was a blur of city streets and empty chatter. Alessia found herself lost in her thoughts, trying to suppress the growing urge she felt inside her—a nagging voice that whispered about returning to old habits.

When they finally arrived at Tommy's apartment, Alessia's anxiety had reached a fever pitch. The familiar surroundings brought back memories, but also a rush of emotions she wasn't sure how to handle. She felt both excited and apprehensive, struggling to keep her feelings in check.

Tommy opened the door and gestured for her to enter. The apartment was cluttered but comfortable, filled with remnants of their time together. Alessia noticed the familiar scent, a mix of stale cigarettes and cologne, and it made her heart ache.

"Make yourself at home," Tommy said, his voice filled with false cheerfulness. "I've missed you."

As Alessia stepped inside, she was immediately hit with a wave of nostalgia and desire. Her mind raced with the memories of their time together—the highs and the lows, the love and the turmoil. It was overwhelming, and she found herself slipping back into old patterns, forgetting the promises she had made to herself.

Tommy made them both drinks, his demeanor casual but tinged with an undercurrent of something Alessia couldn't quite place. The first sip of the drink felt comforting, the familiar warmth spreading through her. It was exactly what she needed to calm the chaos inside her—at least, that's what she told herself.

As the evening wore on, Alessia began to feel the old familiar pull of addiction. The line between her past and her present blurred, and she found herself making excuses for her behavior. Tommy seemed to notice, but he didn't comment. Instead, he watched her with a mixture of satisfaction and concern, as if he knew exactly what was happening but chose to remain silent.

The more Alessia drank, the more her resolve crumbled. She fell back into old habits, letting the darkness wrap around her like a comforting shroud. By the time she stumbled into the bedroom, her head was spinning, her thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and regret.

As she lay in bed, the reality of her situation hit her hard. She had relapsed, gone back to Tommy and the life she had sworn to leave behind. The rehab facility, the hard work she had put in—it all seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by the immediate comfort of her old life.

Tommy's presence beside her was both a comfort and a curse. He had always been the one to bring her back into the chaos, and now, as she lay next to him, Alessia felt a profound sense of defeat. She had fought so hard to get out of that world, only to fall back into it as soon as she was free.

Tears streamed down her face as she faced the reality of her actions. She had relapsed, and now, she had to figure out how to pick up the pieces once more.

Alessia stumbled through the school hallways, her steps unsteady and her mind foggy. The first day of sophomore year was supposed to be a fresh start, but she had slipped back into old habits. The weight of her recent relapse was heavy on her shoulders, and she felt the familiar pull of Tommy's influence. Her eyes were glazed, and she tried to focus on the hallways and the voices around her, but it was a struggle.

Eli and Demetri, who had been watching Alessia from a distance, exchanged worried glances. They had noticed the signs immediately—her disheveled appearance, her inability to maintain eye contact, and the slurred speech. They were concerned but unsure how to approach her. They had seen the damage before and didn't want to overstep, especially since Alessia had pushed them away before.

"Man, she's in rough shape," Demetri muttered, his brow furrowed as he watched Alessia struggle to open her locker.

"I know," Eli replied, his voice filled with worry. "But we've got to do something."

Their concern led them to strike up a conversation with Miguel Diaz, the new kid they had recently become friends with. Miguel had a reputation for being good at connecting with people, so they hoped he might be able to reach Alessia in a way they couldn't.

"She's been having a tough time," Eli explained to Miguel. "She's been in and out of rehab and keeps relapsing. We thought maybe you could talk to her. She listens to you, right?"

Miguel nodded, taking in the gravity of their words. "I'll try. But if she's not ready to hear it, there's only so much I can do."

That afternoon, Miguel approached Alessia in the cafeteria. He took a seat across from her, offering a friendly smile, but Alessia barely registered his presence. She was too lost in her haze to notice Miguel's concern.

"Hey, Alessia," Miguel started, trying to keep his tone casual. "I've heard you've been having a rough time. I just wanted to check in and see if there's anything I can do to help."

Alessia looked up, her eyes narrowed. She was irritated by his intrusion and the tone of his concern. "I don't need your help," she snapped, her voice slurred. "Just leave me alone."

Miguel tried to stay calm. "I understand if you don't want to talk, but I really think talking to someone might help. You don't have to go through this alone."

The tension in Alessia's face grew. Her frustration and the effects of her high amplified her anger. "I said leave me alone!" she shouted, standing up abruptly. Her hand flew out in a sudden, erratic motion, connecting with Miguel's face.

Miguel staggered back, clutching his cheek. The cafeteria fell silent as students turned to witness the altercation. Alessia's eyes widened with immediate regret, but the damage was done. The school staff intervened quickly, separating the two and leading Alessia to the principal's office.

Alessia trudged through the school halls, her mind a swirl of confusion and frustration. She hadn't meant for things to spiral so out of control, but the memory of the confrontation with Miguel was still fresh in her mind. The way he had provoked her, the anger that had bubbled over—she couldn't believe she had let it get so physical.

She arrived at the principal's office and knocked lightly on the door. "Come in," Principal Hughes's voice called from inside.

Taking a deep breath, Alessia pushed the door open and stepped inside. Principal Hughes, a middle-aged woman with a stern yet kind demeanor, looked up from her desk. She gestured for Alessia to take a seat.

"Alessia," Principal Hughes began, her tone calm but firm, "I wanted to discuss the incident that occurred earlier today. It's been brought to my attention that you had a physical altercation with Miguel Diaz."

Alessia's heart sank. She had hoped, in some small corner of her mind, that maybe it would be overlooked or resolved without serious consequences. But the principal's serious expression made it clear that wasn't the case.

"I... I lost my temper," Alessia admitted, her voice shaking slightly. "He said some things that pushed me too far."

Principal Hughes nodded sympathetically. "I understand that you were provoked, but physical violence is never the answer. The school has a zero-tolerance policy for fighting, and unfortunately, that means there are consequences."

Alessia swallowed hard, trying to steady her nerves. "What kind of consequences?"

"We've decided to suspend you for three days," Principal Hughes said, her gaze steady. "This will give you some time to reflect on the situation and also ensure that the school environment remains safe for all students. During your suspension, you will need to complete an anger management workshop and write an essay about the incident and how you plan to handle similar situations in the future."

Alessia felt a wave of shame wash over her. The thought of missing school and having to explain herself to her classmates was almost too much to bear. She looked down at her hands, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.

"Is there anything you'd like to say?" Principal Hughes asked gently.

Alessia took a deep breath. "I'm really sorry. I know I shouldn't have hit him, no matter what he said. I was just... I was angry and frustrated. I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."

Principal Hughes gave her a small, encouraging nod. "I appreciate your willingness to take responsibility. We all make mistakes, Alessia. What's important is how we learn from them."

Alessia stood up, her head hanging low. "Thank you," she said quietly.

As she walked out of the office, the weight of her suspension and the fallout from her actions settled heavily on her shoulders. She knew she had let her anger get the better of her, and now she faced the consequences. It was another setback in a series of struggles she had been facing, and she couldn't help but feel like she was slipping further away from the life she wanted to rebuild.

Alessia stood in the zoo, but it felt like a different world. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the paths as she waited nervously near the entrance. She was younger, more naive, and she had been desperate to see Tommy, hoping he would be the one good thing in her otherwise chaotic life.

When he finally showed up, there was an edge to him she hadn't seen before. His smile didn't reach his eyes, and the way he looked at her made her stomach churn with unease. They walked together, but Alessia couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Finally, they reached a secluded spot near the reptile house, and Tommy turned to her, his expression hard. "I need you to do something for me," he said, his voice low and serious.

Alessia frowned, confused. "What is it?"

Tommy reached into his jacket and pulled out a small bag of weed, pressing it into her hand. "I need you to move this for me. Just take it to this guy downtown, you'll get a cut of the money."

Alessia stared at the bag in her hand, her heart sinking. "Are you serious? You want me to deal drugs for you?"

Tommy's eyes darkened, his grip on her shoulder tightening. "Don't act like you're above it, Alessia. You think you're too good for this? You owe me."

She felt a lump form in her throat as fear and disbelief mixed into a suffocating cocktail. "I can't do that, Tommy. I'm not doing this."

Tommy's expression turned menacing, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper. "If you don't, I'll make sure you regret it. You won't have anyone left. So, what's it gonna be?"

Tears welled up in Alessia's eyes as she looked at the boy she had once trusted, now a stranger with cruel intentions. Trembling, she nodded. "Okay... I'll do it."

That night, the blare of police sirens and the staccato flash of emergency lights cut through the oppressive darkness. Alessia sat in the back of a patrol car, her heart pounding in her chest, the sting of betrayal and the weight of impending consequences crushing her spirit. The leather seat beneath her felt cold and foreign, mirroring the isolation she felt from the world she once knew.

The officers, stoic and professional, exchanged glances through the rearview mirror. Alessia's silence was a contrast to the chaos outside. They had found her with a bag of drugs, and though she tried to explain that it was all a setup, her words fell on indifferent ears. The evidence was overwhelming and, despite her desperation to clear her name, she remained silent about Tommy.

At the police station, the sterile environment, with its harsh fluorescent lights and the echo of distant voices, was a far cry from the comfort of home. Alessia was led through the grimy corridors, her wrists shackled, the clink of the cuffs serving as a harsh reminder of her new reality.

An officer, his face marked by a hint of sympathy, approached her with a crumpled piece of paper. He handed it over with a soft, "Tommy left this for you."

The note was a jumbled mess of handwriting, barely legible, but the words cut through Alessia's numbed state with painful clarity.

Alessia,

I had to do what I needed to do. If putting the blame on you is the price I have to pay, so be it. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sorry it had to be this way.

—Tommy

Alessia's fingers trembled as she read and re-read the note, her eyes filling with tears. Tommy had betrayed her, using her as a scapegoat to save himself. The note was a pitiful attempt to justify his actions, but it only served to deepen the chasm of betrayal that now separated them. She felt her heart sink, her dreams of a better future slipping further away.

As the night dragged on, the police processed her through the system. She was fingerprinted, her mugshot taken under harsh lighting. The camera flashed, capturing her disheveled appearance and the haunted look in her eyes. The stark reality of her situation settled in as she was led through the sterile booking procedures, her mind racing with the implications of what lay ahead.

Alessia sat at a corner table in the juvenile detention center's lunchroom, her tray of food untouched as she stared blankly at the mess of slop on her plate. Her hands shook slightly, a side effect of the withdrawal she was enduring. The vibrant chatter and clatter of trays and cutlery around her seemed distant and muffled, a backdrop to the internal struggle she faced.

As she tried to push the food around her plate, a loud, mocking laugh cut through the din. Alessia looked up to see Emilia, a notorious figure in the detention center, sauntering over with a smirk plastered across her face. Emilia was flanked by a couple of her friends, their eyes glinting with malice.

"Well, look who it is," Emilia said, her voice dripping with disdain. "The little junkie who thinks she's too good for us."

Alessia swallowed hard, her throat dry and sore. She tried to ignore Emilia, focusing on the chipped surface of the table, but Emilia was relentless. "What's the matter, Alessia? Feeling a bit shaky? Maybe you should've thought about that before you started playing with drugs."

The jeers from Emilia's friends were almost as painful as the words themselves. Alessia clenched her teeth, trying to muster the strength to stand up for herself, but the withdrawal symptoms made her feel weak and vulnerable. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, and she felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead.

Emilia didn't give her a chance to respond. With a sudden, cruel laugh, she grabbed a handful of Alessia's hair and yanked her head back. "Look at you, such a mess," she taunted. "Can't even handle a little withdrawal."

Before Alessia could react, Emilia's friends were on her, shoving her roughly. One of them knocked the tray from her hands, sending the food splattering across the floor. Alessia tried to defend herself, but her movements were slow and uncoordinated, weakened by both the physical and emotional toll of her situation.

Emilia's laughter echoed in the lunchroom, a harsh and grating sound that seemed to reverberate off the walls. She shoved Alessia hard, sending her sprawling against the edge of the table. The other girls joined in, their kicks and punches landing with brutal precision. Alessia's attempts to shield herself were futile, and the pain began to blend with the emotional numbness she was feeling.

The scene attracted the attention of some of the other detainees, but no one stepped in to help. Instead, many watched with a mix of curiosity and indifference. The guards, usually vigilant, seemed to be caught off guard, taking a moment to react.

As the blows continued, Alessia's vision blurred with tears and the harsh lighting of the cafeteria seemed to grow dim. Her face stung with pain, and she could feel the bruises forming under her skin. She gasped for breath, her cries of pain muffled by the cacophony of laughter and jeers.

Finally, a guard intervened, pulling Emilia and her friends away from Alessia with a stern command. The girls were dragged off, still sneering and hurling insults as they were led away. Alessia was left crumpled on the floor, her clothes torn and smeared with food and grime.

The guard helped her to her feet, his expression a mix of concern and irritation. "You okay?" he asked, though the lack of genuine empathy in his voice was evident.

Alessia could barely respond, her voice coming out as a weak, pained whisper. "Just... leave me alone," she managed, her eyes downcast. She was escorted to the infirmary, where she was treated for her injuries. The nurse's gentle hands and kind words were a stark contrast to the cruelty she had just endured, but they did little to alleviate the emotional pain she was feeling.

As Alessia sat on the infirmary bed, her body aching and her mind reeling from the violent episode, she realized how far she had fallen from the person she once was. The withdrawal, the isolation, and now the violence had stripped away any remaining sense of stability or hope. Her dreams of redemption and rebuilding seemed more distant than ever, leaving her to confront the harsh reality of her life in juvenile detention.

ASH SPEAKS!

i wanted to give you guys more insight on alessias past i'm trying to spread awareness for things like this. in no way am i romanticizing this. if you are struggling, there is people who can help you.