The Good Samaritan(Camren gxg)

Dear Good Samaritan

"Demi please.." begged Camila.

"No Mila. If things get bad, they may try to take you next just to make a point. You need to stay with the Jauregui's." Demi ordered firmly.

Camila hunched her shoulders, and nodded in defeat. She had wanted to stay at Lauren's apartment, in a desperate need to feel close to her girlfriend, and what better place to find comfort than in the room they had made love and declared themselves to each other. Camila followed the Jauregui's tiredly to their car, and was silent the entire way, blaming herself for this mess.

In Camila's mind, had she not met Lauren, Lauren wouldn't have made herself a target to Shawn in the first place. Clara watched Camila in her side mirror, and knew exactly what the brunette was thinking. Seeing this a opportune time to show the girl exactly the role she plays in her daughters life, Clara silently prayed her daughter would not hat her for this later.

Once the family and Camila made their way through the familiar doors of Lauren's childhood home, Clara stopped and grabbed Camila's hand.

"There's something I'd like to show Camila. You all get to bed, tomorrow will be a long day." Clara sadly told her family.

Chris and Taylor looked at their mother weirdly, but followed her insructions bidding her good night, and Mike smiled lightly towards the two woman knowingly as he made his way to his room.

"Follow me." Clara whispered softly.

Camila nodded confused, and followed Clara up some stairs into what looked like a private bedroom, not noticeable unless carefully looked. She gazed at the apartment, and was still surprised by how house like it truly was. Most billionaires had famous art on the walls, and the Jauregui home did also, but the most prominent on the walls were the family photo's. Camila smiled as she passed young version's of Lauren, and realized this place was an ideal home was just as good if not better than Lauren's apartment at sentimental value. Pieces of Lauren were every where, and she bathed in her lovers eyes all over the walls.

Clara opened a room that looked like it hadn't been used in a while, and from the trophy's and posters on the walls, Camila instantly knew whose room this was.

"Is this Lauren room?" Croaked Camila as tears filled her eyes.

Clara nodded smiling sadly as her own eyes filled with tears and gestured Camila towards the bed.

Walking towards a wall with a framed letter, she took it from it place, and hid the content behind her back.

"When I first met you, did I come off as strange? Like I recognized you?" asked Clara smiling lightly.

Camila scrunched her eyebrows, and thought back to the fundraiser where they had first met. Realization lit in Camila's eyes and she slowly nodded confused.

"When I said my name. It was like you knew who I was, even though I've never met you before." Camila said to her self remembering the expressions Clara and Mike had both made upon meeting her.

"We've never met, but I did knew you before Lauren brought you to the fundraiser. Lauren actually knew before she saved you in the alley way a few blocks from the bar. She was at the bar, to meet you actually. We'll maybe not meet you, but meet the person responsible for saving her life." Clara said smiling.

Camila started to fidget, and she said,"What do you mean?"

Clara removed the frame from her back, and handed it to Camila smiling. Camila took the frame in her hands, and gasped at the familiar letter in the frame.

"Dear good Samaritan (aka badass Marine),

My dad signed me up for this program, where we write letters to soldier overseas, he said as a fellow Marine he would have appreciated the a letter from a perfect stranger to keep him company on the days he missed home, and as a daughter from a Marine I should indulge him. So I'm writing this, and I don't know if you will care to actually hear from someone like me, but I feel like I should write to you, and thank you for doing whatever it is you are doing. I'm just a student at NYU, finishing the first semester of my Sophmore year, and it occurs to me as I write this, that if you weren't out there fighting for me to be right where I am, I wouldn't be here, enjoying the freedom others take for granted. I promise you though, that that isn't  me. I appreciate every sacrifice you make, and every blood, sweat and tear you give for someone like me. I know a war is going on, and I know how scary that must feel. Actually I don't know, but I know if it were me in your place, I would be scared. Whatever it is you face every day, and you come to a point where you don't know why it is you do what you do, if nothing comes to mind, think of the NYU student half way across the world praying for your safe return, and thanking you for the sacrifice you made. Maybe you'll lose your way, if you do, its okay, because I probably would too if I was you, but if you do, think of those back home that make your sacrifice worth it. If it were me, I would think of my mother and father, and little sister Sofie. Or maybe its not a person, maybe it's Pizza. Because trust me when I say some food is worth fighting for. Whatever it is, let it be your guide to power through and lead you back home to the people that love you. If you ever make your way to New York, look for a Cuban brunette brown eyed NYU student, and I'll give you a warm welcome home. I work at a bar called LIPS if you ever need to unwind, and I'll buy you a beer in honor of coming home safe. Wherever I am, you know you have a friend. So if you even ever read this, know that there's some out there appreciating everything you do, and every time I eat a piece of Pizza or lay with my sister, laughing carelessly without a worry, it's because of you and everything you are. Thank you for you sacrifice, I promise it wasn't in vain.