time is an ocean [camren]

part 7

I trudged up to the front door of the house, both shoes now finally resting on the welcome mat Camila and I had picked out together. I quickly brushed my shoes against the material, a small smirk spread across my lips at the memory. I fumbled with my keys from my pocket before pushing the correct one into the keyhole on the handle, finally twisting the knob to push the door forward and enter the house.

I could feel my legs aching with the mere concept of finally getting to sit down and relax on the couch; the exhaustion was finally taking over my body. I let out a small sigh as I threw my keys onto the bench after closing the door behind me. Taking a quick check of the time, I noticed it was half past nine. While I was upset at that fact because I'd told Camila I was going to be home at seven o'clock, it finally struck me that it seemed way too quiet in the house. And the only light on was the one in the living room.

It was very unusual.

Just like the unusual and overbearing feeling that I had done this before. My stomach dropped at the terrible feeling suddenly filling the air.

"Hold on, I've been here before." My voice barely came out as a whisper, disappearing into the air of the house I'd stepped into. Something was going to happen and I knew that there should be a way I can stop it.

The thought of a location randomly popped into my head, and I knew that whatever was going to happen was something I would be able to prevent.

I didn't bother to grab my keys as I turned and swung the front door open, breaking into a full sprint once I'd exited the house and ran down the steps. The cold air of the still night burned my lungs as I silently begged for my legs to move faster, I had to get to this place quickly.

Once I reached the area, I doubled over, chest heaving and doing my best to catch what was left of my breath. I expected police lights or the scene of a car accident, but I was met with dead silence. The street lamps weren't even on and I was alone by myself in the middle of the street. Simply because I had the feeling that Camila was going to be in a car accident. It must have been a fleeting thought in my head; she must be fine and at home. I didn't even check to see if she was there before I had left.

I pulled my phone out from my pocket, dialling the familiar number and holding the device up to my ear to hear it calling. After waiting a few seconds, the call didn't connect and it went through the voicemail.

I was perplexed as to why Camila wouldn't answer her phone when I called, so I got to calling the next person that came to mind.

"Lauren? Are you okay? It's midnight, what's going on?" Normani picked up almost right away, her worried voice sounding from the other line.

"Where's Camila? Have you heard from her?" I got straight to asking questions, panic taking over my body even though there was no reason to be so worried about my wife.

"Oh no, Lauren." The woman's voice dropped, sadness so evident in her tone that it hurt me.

"What? What's going on?!" I raised my voice, starting to get impatient. I just wanted to Camila.

"Camila died six years ago, Lauren. Remember?" The words triggered something strange inside of me, this whole time I had been convinced she would be waiting at home for me after I was done with work. But Camila wasn't going to be there. She died from cancer six years ago and when I opened my eyes I would still be all alone at a dark intersection in the middle of the night.

No Camila and no hope.

I was so hellbent on the feeling that she would be here, but she's not. My legs shook and buckled out from underneath my own weight, I fell forward onto my knees. I looked up at the stars, up to where she would be staring back from the white stars that glowed in the dark navy sky.

I wished she was here with me instead.

She screamed.