11:11 | Cameron Boyce Story

Twelve

"Can I see Cameron Boyce, please?" I ask the woman at the front desk of the mental health ward. He's been hospitalized for depression, he was scarily close to death yesterday after his suicide attempt.
She looks me up and down, "Are you family?"
"Cousin. He's my cousin." I lie, knowing she wouldn't let me in if I didn't.
"Alright. He's in room 47. You've got a half hour until his therapy session."
I thank her and make my way to his room. The halls are far too quiet for my liking, there's only a few patients and nurses walking around. I swear I've become immune to the smell of hand sanitizer because of how long I've been waiting to see him.
After counting the numbers on the doors, I finally find Cameron's room.
He speaks before I can even knock, "You can come in. I took the meds like you said and-"
His face falls when he sees me.
"Cameron. Thank god you're okay! I've been waiting hours to see you!" I shut the door behind me and rush into his room.
"Go," he instructs, "You shouldn't be here."
My heart drops in disappointment, it's my fault he's in here.
I try to persuade him, even though I know he hates me, "Please, I just need to talk to you. Everyone is so worried about you on set, and I can't tell them that it's all my fault."
He exhales, sitting up and staring at me, "They've locked me up in this asylum because I'm weak. I'm crazy. You shouldn't be here, Thompson, you shouldn't have to see me like this."
"I don't care, Cameron. I need to know that you're okay."
Groaning and rolling his eyes in annoyance, he gives in, "Fine. Pull up a chair."
I sit down next to his bed and cross my legs, waiting for him to say something.
"So...you found out about Bella, huh?" He looks at me, completely expressionless.
I nod, keeping my voice soft and quiet, "Do you want to talk about it?"
There's a few seconds of silence, it's tense, but not awkward.
"She killed herself. You knew that, right?"
My head shoots up when he breaks the tension, "I did. I'm so sorry."
"I don't need your pity. What do want to know?" Cameron runs his weak-looking hands through his hair.
I feel so guilty. And there's no reason for it. He's just so sweet, he doesn't deserve to go through all this.
I smile a little, trying to lighten the mood, "I don't need to know anything. You can open up to me, Cameron. Just vent, I'll listen."
He lets out a long and deep breath, "Okay."
"What did she look like? What was your favorite thing about her?" I ask.
"She was very beautiful, even though she never saw it herself. She looked a lot like you, Bonnie. And she was an Aussie too."
Did he just indirectly call me beautiful? That's cute.
"And I loved her smile. Her real smile. The way it would just light up the room, and make me fall for her all over again." He adds.
"If you don't mind me asking, what happened? Before she took her life."
I can tell he's fighting back tears, but he answers anyway, "She told me she had to leave, and that she wasn't going to come back."
I shake my head slightly, feeling terrible for him, "But you didn't pick up on what she really meant."
"Nope, no one had any idea. Otherwise I would have been able to save her. Still, I got to spend her last day with her."
"And what did you do?" I ask him.
He sighs, staring at the blank wall, "I kissed her like my life depended on it."
I put my head in my hands, "You must hate me so much. I can't make you happy like Isabella did."
He shakes his head, silent tears rolling down his cheeks, "She wished for me to be happy, but never felt the emotion herself. I was all she had, Bonnie, and she was my everything. Now that she's gone I have no interest in relationships. I don't hate you, okay? I just don't know how to like you."
The tension builds back up again, but we're saved by his therapist entering the room.
"Cameron, it's time for today's session." Her smile makes me uncomfortable, just because she looks so happy, and Cameron looks so distressed.
Waving goodbye, I head for the door, "I'll see you later. And I hope you feel better soon."
He pulls me into his arms as I'm about to leave, hugging me like we hugged the day before, "Thank you, Bonnie. You're a really great friend. I'm glad to have you around."
"Ditto. And I'm sorry about everything, it'll all get better in time. I promise."