Bars and White

Chapter Nine

I waited patiently for Cammie to come. I wasn't sure what had happened, but in between the aches and burns I felt last night in my restless sleep, I began to feel something very strange. It was a sad feeling mixed in with a twinge of anger directed at myself. The sensation had started making my stomach tumble. All I knew was that I wanted it to stop. And I had a theory that Cammie was the only one who knew how.

The cuts on my body had crusted over and swelled up from infection. They were tinged with yellow pus and reeked of rot. I began to seriously regret ripping the bandages off. And since Cammie was still very upset with me, I assumed it would be a while before she would willing to help me again. Where was she anyways? The bell signaling the opening of visiting hours had rung a few minutes ago.

A few more minutes passed and I started to get nervous. What if she wasn't coming? What if she wasn't ever coming back again? All because of me. A wave of sadness washed over me and suddenly I recognized the feeling I was experiencing: guilt. I felt guilty because I knew that if Cammie never came back it would be my fault. I was the one who scoffed when she shared a part of her life that was clearly a sore subject. Was this seriously what it had come down to? I had truly turned into a monster.

It wasn't as if I had not had my fair share of sick loved ones. Hell I of all people should understand. I was in a prison cell for god's sake. I had just gotten too caught up in my fear of become attached that I reacted harshly. Here was a girl who had taken the time to care for me and all I did in return was treat her like shit.

"F*ck." I sighed and the word echoed around my cell.

"Well that's no way to be spending a Sunday morning." All of sudden Cammie's lovely voice reached my ears and I whipped around to see her standing in the doorway, pinker than ever. On the inside I jumped for joy. However, I didn't want her to know just how glad I was so I gave her a nod.

Cammie stood in the doorway for a few more minutes, still not coming in. I was getting fidgety as she continued to watch me with her yellow eyes.

"Well, I don't have all day."

I furrowed my brows in confusion. What was she talking about? Finally, the truth dawned on me. She wanted me to apologize. I groaned mentally. Apologies were just so embarrassing and all they did was show that you were weak. I remember the first time I ever apologized to her.

We were walking and she was skipping along next to me. The cars on the street strolled by lazily as we headed to the ice cream parlor. The summer sun beat down on us and I could feel sweat causing the hair at the nape of my neck to get all gross and sticky. She was wearing these big heart shaped sunglasses that would have made me scoff if they were on anyone else, but they were on her. And everything just seemed to be perfect if she was the one wearing it. When we finally reached the parlor, we burst in through the door, sighing in relief once the cold air welcomed us. The store owner, Ben, was well acquainted with us and chuckled when he saw the sweaty state we were in.

"I'm assuming the usual?" He asked.

She nodded eagerly and I just smiled. I was too mesmerized by the way she looked. She always looked that way. The way you look when you have not a trouble in the world and everything is just falling right into place. And though she always looked that way, I could never get enough of it. I could honestly stare into her eyes for all eternity and never get bored.

Before I even realized it, she had dragged me to a cute little booth near the window. I was still gazing at her. She giggled when she caught me staring.

"Don't be so creepy, Danny!" She teased and I immediately blushed and looked away.

My face was beet red as I looked out the window, refusing to look back at her. Suddenly, I felt the lightest touch on my hands. I looked down to see that she had intertwined her hands with mine. They were smooth and cold from the nice air conditioning.