When Cami moves in with the 2 most popular guys in school in a new foster home placement, she realizes that her tragic past just might make it so that she will stay lonely forever.
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Cami has...
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Cami was having a nightmare.
The whimpering cries started around two o'clock in the morning, but it was the gut-wrenching sobs that woke me up from a dead sleep.
I'd smoked a bit before bed, which was what had allowed me to fall into the depths of sleep and unthinking peace so quickly and easily when usually I'd had to suffer through it in the dark staring at nothing waiting for the night to drag me under, but not tonight.
Tonight it had been quick and painless—much like I'd wanted my death to be—but the waking up part?
That had been the real hell. Listening to Cami in pain was like taking a serrated knife and scraping the ridged edges against the inside of my arms.
Hearing her cries was a new torture in and of itself that I'd never subjected myself to even in my darkest moments.
So maybe that was why I'd jumped up immediately and placed my ear against the door in the bathroom that led to her room.
It was why I had pulled on a pair of sweatpants over my boxers that I'd been sleeping in and edged the door open slightly, seeing her shadowed shape writhe around in the blackness surrounding her like it was welcoming her home into its inky embrace.
I'd felt those shadows pull at me one too many times—felt the allure of their call deep in the darkest dregs of my soul—and knew that I couldn't let her suffer it alone.
She'd been different from the moment we'd stepped off my bike and she walked into the door.
She was even quieter than me at dinner—which was impossible, but somehow she still accomplished it.
Not a single grunt or hum of acknowledgement.
My mother seemed to know immediately what was wrong and didn't push her on the subject, but that didn't appease me. I needed to know if she was alright. I had to know. I had to.
Knowing was the only way that I could make sure it didn't happen again. It was the only way to acknowledge that it was in the past and it wouldn't be able to damage her the same way it once had.
I eased the door open further until it squeaked on its hinges and cursed the damn door before she shifted in the bed again, shooting straight up as her eyes flashed open and landed directly on me.
"Grey? What—what are you doing in here?"
I was grateful for some stray beam of moonlight that had cast me in a shimmering streak illuminating my motions.
"I heard you screaming and wanted to check on you. Are you okay?"
She sighed, a dark, almost resentful sound filled with years of exhaustion and something far too heavy for someone her age.
