mending the pieces ~ camren

chapter one

Camila's POV

I'm wondering if anyone hates moving as much as I do. I've never moved houses, it's my first time and I truly hate it. But my little sister and I had no other choice. My mom arranged it, her doctor said it was a good idea and should help her. We've lived in Cuba since forever, but there were too many memories of my dad there. Our old house was full of them. My uncle suggested moving to the US, he talked my mom into it with his main argument being a fresh start. That's what I agreed with, we all lost a huge part of our lives.

None of us, the family members and friends liked the idea of him joining the army, but it's always been his dream. He was an amazing person with an enormous and generous heart, all he ever wanted to do was help the others. He couldn't stand a thought that someone was suffering while he was at home watching a baseball game with his friends. Every time he was leaving for a new mission, he made us promise we wouldn't wait for him but always keep him in our hearts.

I hear a lot of stories about daughters being close with their fathers, but I personally think the bond I had with my dad was something nobody else could have. He knew all of my secrets, sharing them with him came so easily, I knew he wouldn't judge me, but do anything to help me. He was my role model, I admired him in every way possible. When all of my so called friends turned their back on me and my mom stopped talking to me after I'd revealed my secret to them, he stayed. He was there for me in more than just one way. It was an honor to know him, to call him my dad.

My heart is shattered in so many pieces I wouldn't be able to count them. Some terrorists kidnapped and murdered him over 2 years ago. I rejected all the help I received from doctors and therapists, it was mostly pills, which is the main reason I said no to them. I've been seeing a therapist for a few months but later I didn't want that either. I didn't need all this. Time heals all wounds, doesn't it? I've heard it was crazy of me, to choose suffering and depression when I could easily get rid of it. The pain is inevitable. I hate numbness and that's what the pills guaranteed. That's my way of grieving and nobody can tell you how you should grieve, it's your own way of handling pain and loss. But I chose this and I'm glad I did. It doesn't mean I don't like the way my mom's dealing with it, like I said, you choose they way you handle it yourself. I respect her choice, that's what she decided on and I'm not going to tell her to do otherwise.

One of the reasons I hate the fact that we left Cuba and our home, is fear. I'm scared I'll forget him, I'll forget the moments we've shared. We'll hang pictures on the walls, so what? I won't be able to recall a funny situation which had taken place by the sofa, right in front of his armchair. What if I forget the details? They're the most important to me. I'm better with each day passing, so yes, time does heal all wounds eventually. But it also makes you forget things and I do not want that.

But I can't do anything about it, my little sister is excited about moving, she misses dad but doesn't exactly realize what's going on, and mom's hoping for new opportunities for our family. I'm silently hoping for that as well. I guess I'll just have to hold on to every little detail about my dad and try to never let go, this must work.

The good part about moving to a new country, is that everything will be..well, new. I've always been a bit shy, I thought I had real friends, but they turned out to be intolerant and narrow-minded jerks , so I highly hope I'll get a chance to meet someone who's worth my time. My dad taught me not to fall for someone who won't appreciate all of me. I know how much I'm worth, my heart's damaged already, it wouldn't survive another unpleasant event. I promised myself I'd be careful, but not too careful. My dad made sure I remembered to have fun, too.

I tend to drown my sorrow in books and my own thoughts. Yes, I'm a bookworm, I've also been called a nerd, apparently because my skills in mathematics are inconceivable. I seriously don't care. Books are my only friends and I'm fine with that. Well, almost fine, I wouldn't mind an actual friend.

Suddenly I felt someone tapping my arm, I turned around only to see my mom rushing me, because our car was waiting for us by the airport. I guess I spaced out a little bit.

That's it, that car would drive us to our new house. It'll be a total surprise for me since I've never seen the pictures that mom wanted to show me, I love surprises.

It was so hot outside, that I immediately felt relieved when we got in the car with air conditioning. The driver started telling us some historical facts and stories about this place but I stopped listening after I'd heard a few sentences, watching the city was much more enjoyable.

Before I noticed, we were there. Sofi opened the door to my seat and started pulling my hand, showing how excited she actually was by screaming and jumping. I laughed at her enthusiasm.

"Hey mom, do you want me to wait with you for the truck with our things or can Sofi and I go exploring?", I asked, smiling slightly.

"No, sweetie. You go and have fun. Be careful!", she said and gave me a pointed look, which meant she really wanted us to be careful.

"Thanks, mom. Just call me when you need me. I love you!"

"I love you, too Mila."

I smiled at her and went searching for Sofi. I had to admit, I was excited and curious of what this city would bring to our lives. I had a good feeling about it and I'm sure dad was happy to see us start over.

a/n heyy guys! my name's pola and i'm definitely a beginner, it's my first fanfic ever. the idea for it started to haunt me and i was forced to write this, so here it is.. no, but seriously, i know it's short, i have a few chapters written, so updates should be regular for now. i really hope you'll like it.

stay positive x