VISUALS © 2015
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[i]
A BEGINNING
For Cameron, probably the hardest thing to do was to breathe.
It was so simple- so undeniably and frustratingly easy- to suffocate on the lack of freedom, on the lack of anything but the endless, soulless black, billowing tirelessly around his frame since birth.
It went on for miles. It went on for years. It went on day in, day out, without fail, without even a single shred of willingness to give up.
But the darkness was a challenge- a messy, overly stubborn challenge- and that was the beauty of it all.
Cameron could breathe.
[ Cameron can breathe. ]
And though, to the rest of the awfully oblivious world, it may have seemed completely unnecessary as a proven fact- to Cameron, himself, it meant possibly everything.
Because as Cameron breathes, he lives.
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rewritten