the broken mirror ➸ camren

Chapter Two

Somewhere far from the beauty competition, in another Seattle neighborhood, a young girl, barely sixteen years old, was sitting in a corner of the dirty warehouse, where she lived.
The cold was so freezing that it made her shudder. She had gone through worse, of course. Her old and torn clothes did not protect her from the cold and the rain.
Her legs were constantly bare, her face full of dirt or scratches. Her hair was messy and her stomach was completely empty.
The only thing that had been left untouched over the years was her caramel-colored eyes. They had not changed at all, as many difficulties, hardships and miseries she had gone through.

"Camila".

That was Normani. She did not differ much from Camila.
They were friends - if it was even possible for two homeless girls who lived on the street. But what they offered to each other was ...their selves.

Camila had no idea what she would do if she did not have Normani by her side. Normani and Cameron. They all lived together in the old warehouse they had found three years ago.
They slept in uncomfortable layers on the cold floor of the warehouse, they only had a change of clothes and of course, no food.
Every day was a living hell for them. Finding food was a barely impossible challenge.
Every day they woke up, wondering if they would survive. Their life was difficult, and sometimes a complete tortune.

Camila lost her parents, when she was only ten years old. She had never felt the family warmth in her life. The worst of all? She had to deal with seeing happy families on the streets. She felt nostalgic for her own parents, even if she did not remember them very well.

Her way of forgetting how incredibly awful her life was, was crying.
In all these torturing ten years, she did not remember a single night that she did not cry. The tears made her stronger.

At least that was what she wanted to think. Camila was never strong. Living on the streets, should have made her tougher over the years.

But no. She had become even weaker. How could she feel strong while feeling her stomach hurt from hunger?

There were days that she did not even eat a piece of bread.
She was losing weight daily. Now she was 48 pounds.
She doubted whether she would live for much longer.

Nevertheless, she never lost hope. She was trying to feel as happy as she could, always trying to find advantages in all the bad things that life had given her. And indeed, she did.
She had never stopped fighting. Everyone wondered how she always had that big smile formed on her lips.

However, she, like Normani and Cameron, had become accustomed.
They knew the streets like the palm of their hand, and all the dangers of the neighborhood during the nights. Camila might have been lonely, but she was not afraid.
She had met all the tramps who lived in Seattle and was not worried about them. They did not hurt her. They all knew her as Seattle's innocent, always happy and energetic homeless girl.

Camila was suffering from the cold weather that night. She stood in the corner of the warehouse. Her little corner. She loved sitting there, almost every night, watching Seattle's streets from the large opening that existed.

She had wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her legs to warm them up, but nothing stopped the cold that prevailed.

"Camila".

Cameron's voice made her turn her head. Her friend seemed more tired than ever.

He was also angry. His hair was dirty and his face full of bruises, like Camila's.

These were frostbites. Camila hated them, not only because they left marks on her body, but because they lasted very much. But she still tried to ignore them and think positively.