ashes to ashes ➵ camren

10. i'm still human

Listen while you read - 'Human' by Daughter

They make it back to Camila's home safely, and Lauren makes a point of placing the small stuffed animal on one of the shelves in Camila's room, which were previously empty. Lauren wants to ask her why she doesn't keep anything up there, but she's already realized that Camila doesn't like questions. She's a private person.

Lauren's in a funk for the rest of the day, too. Sofi and Regina begin to grow bored with hanging around inside, so Dinah suggests that they all sit out on the beach for a while. Dinah's building sand castles with the smaller girls, and both Lauren and Camila are seated in the sand. It's awkwardly silent.

Camila wants to say something, she really does, but she breaks silence about as elegantly as she breaks bones. She's never been good at small talk, either. Maybe socializing wasn't her strong suit.

So she keeps her lips pursed slightly and watches Lauren out of the corner of her eye, who is absentmindedly tracing pattens into the sand. It doesn't take a genius to tell that the girl is bothered.

Camila wonders if she's supposed to be more shaken up, as if she's fallen too far into the normalcy of death and destruction to be affected. It's just not talked about much here. It's glazed over, pushed aside. She assumes that's how people deal with horrible things — by pretending they don't exist. By playing clueless to the cruel reality that surrounds them, to protect themselves.

Lauren's always been one to wear her heart on her sleeve. Sure, she can play tough and act unaffected all she wants, but it doesn't stop the way her heart twists and turns whenever she hears of the horrible things happening around them. She can put up a cool front (most of the time), but she's still fearful. Sometimes she wonders if she'll ever experience a life without fear.

Things build up slowly, though. Little things. They store themselves away in the back of her mind until eventually a dam breaks, and everything comes rushing forwards at once. The small toy she's found on the beach was only the small pebble that broke the dam.

And now it's all piling up. It reminds her of the teddy bear her younger sister used to carry around everywhere when she was a toddler. And her mind just continues to cycle, in the same way the waves wash up on the shore. No matter how much she tries to escape it, she's always pulled back in with the tide. She's always breathing as if she's on the verge of drowning.

And yet, while Lauren's thoughts are imploding within her, it's dead silent outside except for Regina or Sofi's occasional comment from further down the beach. The waves continue to wash up and down, up and down, and Lauren knows she's on the verge of losing it. So, before that can happen, she abruptly gets up to her feet, startling Camila from beside her.

"I-I've got... I'll be... yeah," she stutters out, motioning from herself to the house. Camila opens her mouth to ask what's up, but Lauren bolts away from the girls before she's forced to give an explanation.

Her feet pound against the wooden boardwalk that borders on the beach, and tears sting the corners of her eyes. She's in the desperate state of mind now — the kind that needs some sort of escape, even if there isn't one available.

She sees Alejandro through the front window, and curses herself for not considering this beforehand. Pondering it for a few moments, Lauren gives in and circles around the back of the house, finding Camila's window and praying that it's unlocked.

Thankfully, it is. And moments later she's climbing up the side of the house and into the dark bedroom.

When her feet touch the carpet, there's a few moments of confused silence where Lauren isn't sure what she's supposed to do. She's always been rational. She thinks about things to much. And now, she's thinking about the fact that she's crying, and crying doesn't solve any of her problems. In fact, it probably makes them all worse.