Stages of Heartache

Prologue

"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal."

Despite the fact that her house was filled to capacity, Camila had never felt more alone. She had never spoken to so many people in her lifetime and they all asked the same questions or said the same thing. 'How are you feeling?' or 'I'm so sorry for your loss.' And Camila's usual reply was 'I'm fine' and 'Thank you' and everyone was satisfied. But in reality fine was far from the truth. Who wanted to hear that Camila was absolutely miserable and that getting out of bed could take hours. Every room in the house reminded her of him, he who was no longer here. People would freak out if she said that her life sucked and it would never the same ever again. How do you respond to that? You can't, so instead Camila bottled up her feelings and played the happy hostess although she was dying inside. How ironic.

Camila finally found a moment to herself, who knew that hiding in her closet would be such sweet refuge? It was the most at peace she had felt in a very long time; she didn't have to be so damn phony. She could just be herself, her very sad and miserable self. She tried desperately to drown out the voices of the so called mourners downstairs. She couldn't understand how people could hold a conversation about the next football game or getting together with people they hadn't seen in ages, all the while eating catered food. She believed that they were all so incredibly selfish, they had just been to a funeral and they were talking about dinner dates. Who the hell does that? This was Camila's house, didn't they know that they were supposed to feel as wretched as she did. If one person, just one person, felt the same way, they would understand. They would understand that she didn't give a damn about wearing a new black designer dress that her mother bought her; she would have been more comfortable in her flannel robe. They would understand that being around a bunch of people who were trying to make her forget or take her mind off of him only made the hurt worse. If someone, if anyone felt the same way as Camila then they would understand how dark her life had become.

Salvation in the closet was short lived for Camila, he was there. Cameron was there, memories of her Cameron were everywhere, even in the closet. An early birthday present, a cute blue t-shirt with a funny saying was wrapped neatly in sports themed wrapping paper. He would have laughed heartily at the wrapping paper, oh she would miss that bowl full of jelly laugh. Softball was his favorite, although he wasn't very good at it...yet. But perhaps if he was given more time, he could have excelled. There was a basket of laundry, one that she had thrown in here so her mother wouldn't see it and make a fuss. A basket of laundry that contained so much of him, she grabbed onto his favorite t-shirt; she had given it to him two years ago. It still smelled like him, the tears poured down her cheeks rapidly. God, she could still smell him. Camila sobbed over a simple smell, a smell that would forever haunt her. Worst of all she would never be able to hold him in her arms again and breathe in that magnificent scent.

Her tears only intensified as her thoughts continued to invade her mind. Camila had never cried so much in her life but every thought of her Cameron brought her to tears. They were being deprived of a lifetime together, so much time that she would never have with him. It was gone, it was all gone. She missed everything about him; he was perfect in her eyes. But perhaps her favorite thing about him was his eyes. His beautiful green, emerald eyes, so pure and innocent. She got lost in them every time, they took you in and never let you go. Those eyes would never open again and there was just something so wrong about that. The world was so much brighter through his eyes but now they were forever closed, it was just dark now. He would never admit it, but he hated the dark. The thought of Cameron being alone in the dark made Camila angry. How could he be surrounded by something that he feared, it just wasn't right. The whole damn thing wasn't right.

"Camz."

Camila sniffled as she looked up, the blue shirt twisted upon her chest. It was like she was holding on for dear life, if she let it go, she would fall too. And if she fell, she didn't think she could ever get up again.

"Are you alright baby?" Lauren questioned, she had seen her go upstairs almost a half an hour ago. She figured that she needed some space but when she didn't come back down, she began to worry.

There it was again, that same stupid question. No, Camila was certainly not alright and she would never be alright again. How can you be alright when you suffer the loss of a child?