green ➸ camren

twenty five

"Are those bad guys?" Jeremiah asked worriedly.

Unable to concentrate on anything else, Camila hurried to bring them both into the stall.

"Quiet," Camila shook her head and held a finger to her lips once she placed the smaller boy on the back of the toilet. Luckily, Jeremiah seemed to sense the seriousness in Camila's voice and he stayed silent, pressing his hands against the sides of the stall to keep himself balanced.

The smaller girl rushed to pull the door of the stall closed, locking it just as another round of shots sounded off. Jeremiah whimpered, quickly catching Camila up to speed.

"Shhh, it is okay," she said, trying to believe her own words. Her heart was pounding so hard against her chest that she was genuinely fearful it would break its way out of her ribcage. But her one mission right now was to make sure the smaller boy was okay.

There was an eerie silence taken over them. Camila took a deep, shaky breath, thanking the gods that this toilet had a lid. Placing it down, she cautiously climbed atop it, pressing her hand against the two sides of the stall to keep herself level. She didn't want their feet showing beneath the stall.

"It is okay," Camila whispered, feeling one of Jeremiah's hands lower to cling onto her shoulder. His back was pressed against the wall behind Camila, higher up on the back of the toilet.

"I'm scared," Jeremiah whispered. Camila carefully reached up to place one of her hands atop his, flinching when she heard another gunshot, even louder this time.

"Let's talk about the princesses," Camila whispered. Her voice was barely audible, even quieter than the irregular dripping coming from the faucet outside the stall. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to stay calm.

"The flower princess?" Jeremiah whispered, growing interested. Camila was glad she had somehow managed to distract him.

"And the ocean princess," the small girl nodded.

"Did they ever get their happily ever after?" the boy asked quietly. Camila took a shaky breath, unable to calm her beating heart. She nodded slowly.

"Everyone gets a happily every after," she whispered, biting down on her bottom lip and willing herself to stay calm.

"How do you know?" Jeremiah asked. Camila winced when she felt his grip on her shoulder tighten.

"I just d-,"

Camila's breath caught in her throat when she heard the unmistakable creaking noise of the bathroom door. She felt Jeremiah freeze above her and quickly squeezed his hand, offering him some type of silent comfort.

Slow, meticulous footsteps entered the room. They seemed to echo on for forever, each one sending a pang of fear through Camila's chest. She held her breath.

"Fuck."

Camila jumped when a masculine voice broke the tense silence. Slowly, she craned her neck to peer through the crack in the stall. What she saw made her heart drop in her chest.

Clad in baggy jeans and dark t-shirt, the man (no younger than 30) clutched a silver revolver in his right hand. Camila curled her toes in her converse, feeling fear radiate through every nerve ending in her body.

"Fuck."

The man cursed again, and Camila watched as he began pacing back and forth in front of the mirror, bringing his free hand up to clutch his hair.