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ACT TWO ; CHAPTER EIGHTEEN ✎ . . . all for nothing
𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐀'𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 asshe stepped inside glenn's tent. he was conveniently still awake. "you can't sleep either?" he asked gently. camila thought it was a dumb question. it may have been silent, but she knew nobody could be asleep at the farm right now. not after the events that took place just an hour ago. "no, i see him everytime i close my eyes." the girl admitted, glenn lifted his blanket, inviting her over.
she was under the covers in an instant. this wasn't anything new to the two best friends, especially in high school when camila would have frequent nightmares. "you okay?" glenn whispered. she shook her head, her eyes brimmed with tears again.
"he was trying to tell me something. i—i couldn't understand." glenn wrapped his arm around camila, pulling her into him while he stroked her hair in an attempt to calm her down. "when we met i never thought he would mean this much to me. glenn, i never appreciated him enough. i can never make it up to him."
glenn frowned, "he knows that you're sorry, he knows that you cared about him." he assured.
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"𝐇𝐄𝐘, 𝐂𝐀𝐌, 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐄?" camila and shanelooked up, seeing carl who had a guilty look on his face. "what's up, man?" shane threw the plank of wood he had been carrying into the back of the car before going back to get more. "if i tell you something, can you promise not to tell my parents?"
shane chuckled, "that's probably a bad idea for both of us, bud." his voice came out strained as he lifted a rather large plank.
camila shook her head, ignoring shane, "as long as it isn't something they should know, we won't say a thing." with that, carl started walking back towards the house. "hey carl, come on back." shane sighed, putting the last plank of wood into the trunk. "go on."
carl hesitated for a moment before pulling a handgun out of his pocket, "i took it from daryl's motorcycle..." carl handed the gun to camila who quickly put it away, a serious look on both her's and shane's faces. "if he found out i took it, he'd kill me." carl continued.
"what are you doing with this?" shane asked. "it's my fault—dale. it's my fault that he died."
a large wave of nausea washed over camila at the thought of dale. an image of the previous night popped into her head, making it ten-times worse. the fear in his eyes which were wider than ever. the blood trickling out of his mouth. his limbs twitching every so often from the immense pain he felt.
