Lazaretto (Camren)

S I X

"Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it's thinking of yourself less." –C.S. Lewis

CAMILA

Ally's words spun around inside my head, churning repeatedly as I replayed them over and over. You're scared of living. I was at a loss for words. As I stared into her eyes looking for answers that never came, I backed away and looked at my glove covered hands. What are they trying to do to me? What are they trying to turn me into? I undid the Velcro straps and threw the gloves on the ground in a fury, the sound effectively silencing everyone and turning the attention to me. From how fast the blood was coursing through my angry, volcanic veins my cuts ripped open, soaking through the bandages.

"What is this place? Why did you bring me here?" I asked a little louder than intended.

"I'll explain everything to you, but we need to take care of your cuts first." She tried reaching for my arm, but I jerked it away. I was sure everyone's attention was on us now.

"No. I want to know why you brought me here, expecting me to fight someone, when I just escaped yesterday." I heard some distant gasps behind me, and I continued. "I don't know how to fight. I barely know how to stand up for myself, and you want me to hit someone? The facility took everything from me, everything!" The people from outside must have gotten wind of the interaction because the room was suddenly more crowded. Ally tried to reach for me again, but I pulled away once more. I didn't know why I was acting the way that I was, or why I had gotten so angry. I guessed it was all pent up, and it was deciding to come out right now in front of everyone. I didn't mean to upset Ally or embarrass her. She had done so much for me already, but I couldn't stop. I was fuming. The bandages were now soaked with copious amounts of blood, and it was starting to run down my neck and arm in a steady stream.

"Camila, I understand—"

"You understand? Says the girl who grew up outside the facility. You have no idea what it's like!" At this point, I could have spit fire. I reached up and touched the spot on my neck and pulled my hand back to see my fingers spotted with crimson. I knew I should have felt pain by now but I was so enraged that my adrenaline had kicked in, and I hadn't felt a thing. I could, however, feel myself starting to get light headed at the sight and lost my balance a little. I then felt a cold hand on my shoulder.

"I'll take her to get this cleaned up." I turned to see Harper with a small smile on her face, and I instantly felt relaxed and grateful that she ended my little argument with Ally. Without another word, she led me past the stunned group and up the stairs to the bathroom. Once we entered the space, I leaned up against the sink waiting for her to gather the supplies.

"I'm sorry about all of that. I just got a little carried away," I began to explain. My eyes were fixated on the tile floor, knowing if I were to look into hers that I'd start crying.

"You don't have to explain anything to me. I've been there, done that." Harper smiled and set the medical supply kit down on the sink next to me before pulling out a small bottle and alcohol swabs. "Ally has been around here since she was about thirteen. She's seen the highs and lows of everybody that comes through." She began to wipe the alcohol swabs over the cuts. The familiar stinging returned, but I didn't shy away from the pain this time. "She may not completely understand where we came from, but she does understand the hardships we had to overcome." 

I then looked at the older woman who was cleaning my neck, her light brown eyes concentrating on the injured area. She must have noticed that I was hesitant in talking about my encounter with small woman. I never meant to yell at her the way I did. Hell, I had never yelled at anyone in my life. I never had a reason to.