The Last Of Us

Chapter 9

A/N: warning, this chapter is a bit graphic and depressing, and it may be triggering.

"Here, take a seat.", Camila said, as if welcoming Lauren into her home (which was basically just a tree log a small ways off from where everyone else was).

"I like what you've done with the place. Are those new curtains?", Lauren joked, making Camila glare at her playfully.

"They're called 'bushes', idiot." When Camila was done making that remark, she took a seat next to Lauren and began to heal her arm, making the other girl smile when she felt the pain go away.

"Thanks Camz. Now what did you want to talk to me about?", the green-eyed girl said, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

"I trust you, Lauren. I trust you more than anyone here. So, that's why I want to tell you something I've never told anyone else, considering that I don't know how much longer we're even going to be alive. I want to tell you...how I was found and brought to the camp."

"You know I'll listen to anything you say, and I'd love to hear it, but are you sure? I don't want you to tell me if you're uncomfortable about it-"

"No, no...I want to. I've held it in for too long, and you and Perrie just made memories flash through my mind. I want to, and I'm going to tell you."

"Alright, then I'll tell you my story as well." Camila smiles at Lauren, getting a smile in return.

"I came to the camp when I was ten, but I discovered my power when I was eight. See, my home wasn't the best environment. My parents never wanted me to begin with, but they didn't want to take the time to put me up for adoption or anything either, so I was stuck with them to suffer. They would always scream at each other when I was young, maybe from when I was an infant to when I was three. Then when I was four or five, they started to drink even more, and they became monsters. They wouldn't just keep me up all night with their arguments and shouting, they would also abuse me violently during the day. I remember going to kindergarten and seeing all my friends getting picked up by their mommies and daddies, seeing the love between them, and I always wished I could have that. Instead, I was walking home everyday and getting beaten just because they didn't want me. I feel like they only kept me around so I could do their work around the house for them and become a stress toy for them to beat around when they're angry."

Lauren's eyes started to tear up, and she placed her hand over Camila's, trying to comfort her as she trembled.

"They just got worse and worse as the years progressed, and I still have scars to remind me of how they treated me. Anyway, a few years after they had me, they had my little sister. They didn't want me, and they didn't want her either, but I guess they just didn't understand what protected sex was. When they started to beat my sister, that's when I started to realize that I was different. I couldn't stand to see her get hit and slashed by my father's belts, so I took the beatings for her. I sacrificed myself to protect her, and it worked for a while. But then, I started having to go to school longer, and I started having to take it more seriously, so I couldn't protect my sister as much as before. When I came home one day, I found my parents in the living room with my sister on the floor. I saw the empty bottles of vodka lying on the floor, and I knew that their sense of mind was gone once I saw the knife."

Camila's body shook and trembled, horrible memories resurfacing after she worked so hard to keep it hidden throughout the years. Lauren ran her fingers through her hair, wrapping an arm around the poor girl's waist to bring her closer to her.

"They were cutting her, laughing at her cries as they slashed at her skin. I ran and took my school bag off my shoulders, slamming it onto my father's head, the textbook inside luckily knocking him out. I then grabbed an empty bottle from the floor, and ran up to my drunk mother to hit her on the head with it as well. When both of my parents were on the floor knocked out, I grabbed my sister and took her to our small room, locking the door. My sister was bleeding, and I didn't know what to do, I was only eight years old. I looked around the room as I held her close to my, trying to think of a way to help her, until I felt her weakly tapping my shoulder. I looked down at her, and I saw her pointing at my hands...that were glowing. I didn't know what possessed me to do it, but I moved one of my hands over her wound...and it healed. I moved my hand to another, and that one healed as well. Then another, and another, until her body was fully healed. With my new found ability, I wasn't scared anymore. Sure we still got beat badly, but I would always heal us afterwards."