Remembering Cameron

Chapter 1

I was so very far up. I looked down. The cars reminded me of the tiny Hot Wheels I used to play with as a child and the people looked like ants as they made there way down the busy street through the city.

I glanced down at them with interest. Even though there were hundreds, maybe thousands of people milling around below me, not a single one of them knew I was up here. Nor were they aware of all the pain that drove me to this last resort.

I stood there, feeling the breeze, and breathing deeply. The air smelled foul, and it was rather off-putting. I looked back down, deep in thought. What had brought me here?

Cameron. Cameron had brought me here.

Her smooth pale skin and soft caramel colored hair brought me here. Her bright green eyes. Her pink lips. The same lips that made a perfect "o" shape when I proposed to her. The same green orbs that glanced at me in fear when we first met.

When we first met.
8 years ago. We had been 16.
I remember it vividly.

It had been a crisp November morning. I stepped outside and sat on the steps to my porch. I had just woken up. I wore my pajamas and had some pretty severe bedhead.

That was the exact moment I first saw her. She was walking down the sidewalk, across the street, with another boy. I watched them curiously, when he suddenly pulled away. She turned to him, shocked. He shoved her. My insides boiled. Then he struck her. She huddled onto the ground, terrified. I stood up, crossed the street, and shoved myself in between them.

"Don't touch her," I said in a low voice. I had no idea where this sudden bravery came from. Maybe from all of the anger I stored deep down inside. Maybe from witnessing my own mother being beaten by countless boyfriends. Nonetheless, I was finally taking a stand, even for a complete stranger.

"This is none of your business," the assumed boyfriend replied gruffly.

"You should never hit a woman," I stated. "Never."

He shoved me. I turned the other cheek. No way was I sinking down to his barbaric level.

Then he punched me pretty hard. The blow landed on my cheek. I have to admit, I was not expecting this. I stumbled back slightly, but remained standing. Clenching my jaw, I took a step closer to him.

"Leave her alone."

"She's my girlfriend, I do what I want with her. Back off."

I blinked. What an idiot.

I stole a glance at the girl. She was still huddled on the cold concrete, her cheek red, and tears present in her eyes, threatening to spill.

"Derek, please," she said in a small voice.

"Shut up!" he blew up, advancing towards her.

"Stop!" I demanded, remaining between them.

"I'm done with this," he spat. He looked at the girl, waving his stupid finger at her. "We're over. Over." Then he stomped away, not unlike a child having a tantrum.

I knelt down beside the girl.

"Are you alright?" I asked gently.

"Um..um yeah?" she said, her statement sounding more like a question.

"Do you... um... would you like to come over to mine? It's actually... um... like right there," I gestured behind me, chuckling nervously, "To clean you up, you know? You seem a little shaken up."

She gave me a small smile before nodding. I took her hand, helping her up and guiding her across the street to my house.

My mom was sitting at the kitchen counter, in a slouched position, staring at the wall intently.