One Shots (Camren)

A Caterpillar

"We kill all the caterpillars, then complains when there are no butterflies."

-

"Are you lonely?"

The unruffled voice speaking to Camila from across the plastic table is surprisingly not pitying her in any way, and to her amazement, Camila doesn't find the tone nowhere near as condescending as she normally does. Neither does it seem like the owner attempts to make fun of her.

Camila can tell a lot about people simply by their voices. She has heard quite a few along the way and likes to sort them into four different categories - kind, bad, superior, important.

In comparison to everyone else's demanding voices, this one just sort of exists. A part of Camila believes that maybe it appears to be only inside of her own head, some piece of her own imagination playing a prank on her. It's easy to wonder whether the voice is really there at all, or if she's the only one who can hear it.

If you ask her why she questions her own sanity, the answer Camila gives will be quite simple. Most of what Camila hears and sees is exactly that - not real. Actually, it's not exactly what she thinks. It is more what everyone else tells her, but it's hard to argue when she does a lot of the talking inside of her head, with herself.

The current voice however, that's an entirely different case. Camila's never heard it question her sanity and she has been hearing it constantly for the past week. It's consistency has gradually increased for each day that has passed, she has noticed. In the start, it never bothered to ask her personal questions. Back then, the daily questions were about how much pain she was in, and if she had been eating. Lately, it has grown more and more aggressive, trigging her ability to speak, but, Camila prefers not to communicate and therefor has remained silent for most of the dry conversations.

That's something she learned a long time ago, when she was first committed to the psychiatric institution. Ever since she started to purposely act quiet and reserved, people finally rewarded her with privacy. Most of the people she never encountered again. The few who stayed only talked about how she was somewhat mentally ill. They told each other that she was insane. Right in front of her, they often discussed her psychological condition. There were numerous of contradicting opinions and they seemed to have a hard time diagnosing her properly, casually alternating the conclusion back and forth before they decided that she is a shallow shell of a human.

From their perspective, she is probably unable to react to or comprehend reality, and she is probably more likely to have lost her sanity than to be capable of functional thinking.

Sadly, Camila thinks they are right most of the time. She is unstable with many uncontrollable thoughts and overwhelming emotions bottled up. It's enough to make her question her own stability. However, she knows better. She's not completely indifferent as she can still feel the burning flames of riots within herself, the ones she effectively suffocates in quietness.

"Camila."

Again the voice speaks her name, but this time, Camila reacts. Full of anxiety, she lifts up her head to face the intruder, the one who has managed to infiltrate her barriers. When she looks up, stern brown meets confident green and her expressionless mouth is greeted with a soft smile. Even if she is diagnosed as mentally ill, she can still recognize a genuine smile, one that means no harm.

"Do you remember me?" The woman asks.

"No." Camila husks out in return, her eyes focusing intensely on the two emeralds looking at her. They aren't scrutinizing her like the rest of them. Instead, they're blinking, the eyelids sinking and rising almost naturally and Camila find herself fascinated by the lack of judgment present.