When Cami moves in with the 2 most popular guys in school in a new foster home placement, she realizes that her tragic past just might make it so that she will stay lonely forever.
***
Cami has...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Cami was shivering, even though the sun was casting the field in warm rays causing sweat to bead up on my forehead.
It didn't matter, though. Where we were going, it was cool and dark and one of the most amazing sights I'd ever witnessed.
I only hoped that she'd feel that way, too.
I was worried that she might've been shivering for an entirely different reason than the temperature, so I didn't think twice before placing my hand in hers and linking our fingers together.
I could sign with just one hand if I had to.
She could always ask me to mouth the words, too.
I could still whisper, considering that didn't use my vocal cords, but for some reason any kind of communication with my words out of my mouth just didn't feel right.
Not now, at least.
I tucked away the dwindling time left for me to make a decision on my voice forever to the back of my mind. This was about getting Cami's mind off of Colton and what had happened with my brother.
This was about helping her heal; showing her everything she'd be missing if she acted on those impulses I knew were firing back and forth in her head.
I'd felt the exact way, too, once upon a time. And maybe even a few more times since then.
An addict doesn't magically stop being tempted by their vice once they remove themselves from the situation.
A cancer patient isn't magically cured when they undergo treatment.
They go into remission.
I guess I could say I was in remission with my mental illness.
I would be fine one day, destroyed the next.
It was what always happened, but with Cami by me, I could only hope the next flare up took longer to rear its ugly head.
I didn't want her seeing that side of me, ever, but I knew it wasn't a reality to keep it under wraps forever.
The verdant grass crunched beneath our feet and the mud tried to stick to the underside of my black shoes but still we trudged on.
Her soft, warm hand squeezed mine a few times when her breathing sped up, almost like she could feel her panic attack coming on and was tightening her grip on me to make sure she was still okay; that she was still here.
Or that I was still with her.
"You know, I somewhat trust you since the view was so pretty the last time you took me somewhere, but I still haven't ruled out that you're a murdering psychopath."
"Psychopaths don't have a conscience. I would be classified as a sociopath, but I wouldn't commit crimes against people I like or admire, like my family and friends. You need to brush up on your criminal terminology."
