Keep Me Alive • Camren

Thirteen

Camila frowns, wrinkling her forehead. Confused as to where she is, she attempts to focus her blurry eyes on her surroundings. It's not her bed, or the roof. A couch. She sits upright, looking around the room. Her eyes land on a frame, in it is a photo of Lauren as a child. Why was she in Lauren house?

Camila's vision is still muzzy.
Her eyelids are begging to close.  It's light out so she assumes it's morning. She searches for her phone, locating it buried in a crevasse in the sofa. It's early. 6:03 A.M to be exact. Reaching for her jacket, she pulls out a cigarette from the carton in one of the pockets. She considers going outside, but decides not to. Its probably below 40 degrees. Instead, Camila ventures around the apartment, failing to open several windows.

She quietly tiptoes into Lauren's room. There is a window beside her bed, and to no surprise, Camila succeeds at lifting it. A gust of wind blows inside, and she notices Lauren slightly shiver.

Bringing the cigarette to her lips, Camila gazes into the street. There were few cars and no people. Most leaves had already changed from their forest colored summer tone, to bright yellow, orange, red, and brown. It was quite serene. And Camila loved it. She loved the gloomy sky, that the sun set earlier. That was her favorite thing abut fall and winter. How pure and tranquil the world seemed.

She takes a deep breath. Inhaling the fresh air, before taking another, long drag.

After finishing the cigarette, Camila crushes the bud onto the sill. She pushes it shut, and readjusts so her feet are stretched out in front of her. Her back is supported by the wall, and her neck is resting on the ledge of the window. She sets her eyes on the sleeping girl. It was ironic that Camila felt more at home sitting on Lauren's floor, than she ever did in her own bed.

She sighs, and after several minutes of admiring, she lets her eyes win. They close, and she drifts back to sleep.

...

The second Lauren wakes up, she discovers Camila asleep on the carpet. Her mouth is slightly agape, causing Lauren to giggle. She slides to the edge of the bed, her feet only inches away from the brunette's. Picking up the pack Marlboro, she tosses it into the trash, before making herself comfortable on the sofa. There is nothing good on in the morning, so Lauren settles for an episode of Jersey Shore. She had forgotten how horrible this show was. Why did she ever watch it?

Minutes later, Camila flops herself next to Lauren. "Where'd you put my cigarettes?"

Lauren changes the channel. "I threw them away."

Camila groans, marching into the kitchen. Lauren is only a few steps behind. She fetches the container out of the garbage, but Lauren quickly tears it out of her hands. "Give it back." Camila reaches for the pack. "No." Lauren pulls it away. "When did you even start smoking? How do you get them?"

"That's none of your business."

"Are you trying to kill yourself again?"

"You're being a totally fucking hypocrite right now." Camila attempts to take the cigarettes back into her possession once again, but Lauren is much quicker. "What about you? You just quit. Out of nowhere you just stopped."

Lauren doesn't retaliate.

"How the hell does someone just decide they're not addicted to something anymore? First the drugs, now this." Camila continues. "You used to smoke all the time, but the second I start you make some big deal out of it. I don't need you watching out for me, Lauren. Didn't I tell you that the day after we met? I don't need your help." She storms out of the apartment without the cigarettes, and Lauren doesn't go after her. At least, not right away.