Haven't Forgotten My Way Home (Camren)

Chapter Three

Camila practically bounced into Lakeview House the next day, only to have her hopes completely dashed with one glance into the corner.

"We tried," Director Fields said, coming to stand at her elbow. "We put her at the game table with the paper and colored pencils, like you asked. She didn't even make a move. Some of the other residents drew, tried to get her to, but nothing. Just sat there and stared."

Camila sighed.

"Eventually the other residents got uncomfortable, so we took away the paper and pencils, and just... brought her to her usual spot. I'm sorry, Ma'am."

"It doesn't matter," Camila said, even though she knew it did. She'd seen it, she knew she had. A flicker of recognition, of... something. She didn't know what it was and with Lauren Jauregui sat back in her corner Camila doubted herself once again.

But she knew it'd happened. Lauren had responded.

Which is why she kept coming back to the House, for the next week. It didn't matter that Normani kept telling her that she was fighting a losing battle, or that the director at one point said she felt like Camila was disturbing the other residents by her show of favoritism for Lauren. It didn't matter what questions she asked Lauren, or that they all went unanswered. She still came, bringing a book or her lunch. An iPod with music that she tried to get Lauren to listen to. Apple slices that she tried to get Lauren to eat.

Lauren never responded, but Camila still came. Every day, for a week.

Friday afternoon, she was as discouraged as she'd ever felt. Once again she'd tried to get Lauren involved in a board game, but once again the young woman hadn't responded. Maybe Normani was right, Camila thought. Maybe Lauren was too damaged; maybe whatever Brad Simpson had put her through had left her beyond repair. It might be easier, for both of them, just to let Lauren... be alone. Barely existing, but at least alive. Maybe by pushing her it would make things worse. Though really, she didn't know how rambling on about her house and her dog and her school years and her parents and how she never could find good shoes in her size unless she went to the children's section would count as making it worse.

But it was a risk Camila was increasingly not willing to take.

"So, no board games?" she tried again.

No response.

Camila flexed her fingers, and then put her palms on her thighs, pushing up until she was in a standing position.

"I can't do this anymore, Lauren," she said gently. "I really would like you to talk to me, but like I said last week, no one is going to force you to do anything you don't want to do. I really wish I could hear your voice; I'm sure it's lovely, but if you don't want to speak, then I'm not going to make you."

It was breaking her heart, but as she stared at Lauren and the emotionless expression still on her face, Camila knew it'd be for the best, for both of them. Maybe, eventually, Lauren would come around and live happier than what she was. Camila hoped so.

"I'm going to go, and I won't bother you again. I'm sorry, Lauren. Please take care of yourself."

Camila waited, but when there was no answer, she nodded once, and turned to go. She made it three steps before she heard it.

"P-please don't l-leave me."

It was low and raspy, in a voice that hadn't been used in months, but Camila knew that this, this wasn't her imagination.

She whirled around, her eyes wide, to find Lauren staring directly back at her. The girl opened her mouth to speak again, but what came out was only a rough squeak. Camila moved back to stand in front of her and waited while Lauren licked her lips.