The Sick And The Troubled

Prologue

Pills, pills and more pills was Camila's entire life. She was always fluctuating between sick and well, sick and well, sick and well. The sicker she became, the more fearful she was. She was a shell of who she used to be and desperately just wanted to feel something. To feel alive once more.

The wheelchair-bound woman didn't feel alive. She's nineteen, she should feel alive. But she doesn't.

Maybe she never felt that way.

She wished she could snap her fingers and be okay. She feared that she'd never be okay. Her day to day life wasn't living — it was more-so surviving day by day.

She just wanted to do the typical newly adult shit. Like getting drunk and hiding the bottle of liquor from your parents. Like whispering to her friends about a cute girl she saw. Like making pinky promises her and her friends would stay friends forever.

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she realized she didn't have any friends to begin with. She was far too sick to go to a regular school.

So, her parents decided to put her in an education program for the sick and mentally ill. The vast majority of people there were sick and all the teachers were certified doctors and nurses alike. Camila didn't understand why her parents would put her around more sick and mentally ill people. She felt as if her parents felt sorry for her and wanted her to live a normal life — but not a too normal life.

Sure, her parents could imagine her dating someone. But didn't want her to actually date someone. They joked about her getting married — but it was just a mere joke to them.

The brunette let out a soft sigh escape from her chapped lips as she saw her mother, Sinu, walk through her opened door. Her mother always made sure that door stayed open, incase Camila's condition would become worse. Incase Camila would collapse, incase Camila would curl up into a ball and incase Camila would—

"Camila, your bus is here." her mother spoke up, anxiety lacing her tone.

The brunette raised her sculpted eyebrow in confusion. Why would they put her on a bus...?

"Why am I going on a bus?" the nineteen year-old queried as she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"No questions.. I love you.." her mother replied as her voice was now trembling as she wheeled her off to the bus.

The next thing the Cuban knew, she was getting wheeled onto the bus by the bus driver. All eyes were on her as she nervously adjusted her mask. The eyes didn't seem threatening or judgmental — they actually seemed understanding. She took a few shaky breaths in.

"I have the capability to walk, you know.." she frowned.

Just because she would sometimes collapse under her own body weight doesn't mean she were incapable of walking. She hated how everyone pitied her.

The bus driver let out a sigh as he strapped the wheelchair down to the bus, making sure it wouldn't slide around. He then walked towards his seat and started the engine of the bus.

The engine hummed to life, shaking the bus with it. A raspy voice hummed with a laugh as she mimicked the noise of the bus. Camila turned her head to face the source of the noise.

A raven-haired woman, probably around her age, giggled to herself as she sat alone. She made eye contact with the brunette and flashed a warm smile at her. She waved to her and Camila felt her body heat up with anxiety. She was scared of people.

"Hi." Camila croaked out, anxiety lacing her words. Warm, emerald green eyes were now trained on her. She nervously met the woman's gaze and smiled gently under her mask. She hoped that the mysterious woman knew she were smiling, too.