Sweetwater Valley || Shawmila

1.

Her feet touched the dusty ground when Camila jumped out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Home, sweet home, she should have thought. Uncle Jimmy had picked her up at the station, loaded her excessively heavy luggage into the back of his truck and drove her home with his usual kind smile on his face. Throughout the trip the static sound of the radio had filled the cab with the strum of guitars and the hoarse voices of the songwriters he loved. Camila didn't mind it. Jimmy wasn't really her uncle. He was a man in his forties, clear eyes and light hair, his skin marked by the sun. He always wore jeans and a shirt, just like most of the residents of that town. He had been one of the first employees at her father's ranch, and Camila grew up seeing him eat at their table at every lunch.

Camila watched as her white sneakers quickly turned into a rust color as the desolate ground crept into the fabric of her canvas shoes. She sighed. She had been back for less than two minutes and had already found a good reason to turn on her heels and go back to where she had come from. Valentina wouldn't let her, though. In fact, it was her older sister who asked her— forced her really — to return to the ranch, and she didn't have much choice in the matter.

Uncle Jimmy was already carrying her bags upstairs, but Camila lingered a little longer in the front yard. The air was warm and smelled of summer, and the sounds of the prairie filled her ears with the buzzing of insects and the chirping of birds - a melody she always cherished. Once she crossed the threshold, she would have to forget about college, her friends, the career she had always dreamt about. She was expected to return to her monotonous life in Sweetwater Valley.

Resigned, she entered the house without saying a word, but was immediately overcome by Isabella's enthusiastic fury. The sixteen-year-old  wrapped her in one of her suffocating hugs, which Camila dared not complain about. It had been months since she had last seen her little sister. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Valentina busy with one of the many chores that kept her occupied at the ranch. The two looked at each other and Camila gave her a tense, almost forced smile. Uncle Jimmy, finally free of luggage, walked past her to get out and bent down slightly to whisper in her ear - Try to be good. -

Camila sneered - I'm not the problem. - But she knew very well what the man was referring to. She had always had quite the temper. It had been compared to hot coals, sparks of electricity, summer storms. Everyone thought it was impossible to tame her. She was pure energy. But Camila wasn't of the same idea. She knew she had a strong and exuberant character, but she was also aware that there was actually someone who could always set a brake on her. Who was also the reason for her return to the ranch.

Camila couldn't pinpoint the exact day when her relationship with Valentina cracked. It had been an accumulation of events that began the moment her sister had started to act like a mother. And a father.

Camila ran up the stairs under the guise of unpacking. Her old room looked like a time capsule. Little had changed since she left for college five years earlier, yet there was one detail irrevocably different from the last time she had been in there. She had never felt like a bird in a cage before. The walls of her room seemed to have shrunk, trapping her in a plasterboard box. She could understand how Alice in Wonderland felt when she had grew a few too many sizes.

But that night she didn't want to think about that. Camila had decided that she would make it clear to her older sister that she would not live by her rules. Valentina certainly expected Camila to return to being the frightened and obedient sixteen-year-old she had been for a short time a few years before. Well, she wouldn't be pleased. Camila had agreed to return only because of the stupid pact she had made with her sister when she had finished high school. She would stay at the ranch, she couldn't break her promise, but she would do it as an independent adult.