No more Fish

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"No way, I refuse!"

"Come on, Camila. You have to eat something", Lauren pleaded as he pulled in the fish trap.

Camila sat on the bank of the small lagoon and scrubbed some barely edible roots with her once pristine nail brush. That manicure kit was certainly getting a workout.

"I am. Just not fish", she replied. "I'll eat ... other things ... like these lovely roots."

"But you hate those roots. You said, yourself, they taste like bitter jicama. And there's no protein in them. You have to have protein."

"Maybe, I'll eat one of your little monkey friends." She smiled wickedly.

Lauren looked up in astonishment. "You wouldn't dare lay a finger on Clarke or Lexa", she said fiercely and then, with a little bit of worry in her voice added, "Would you?"

Camila sighed and looked up from her task. She was so cute when she was protective. "No ... of course not. I know how much they mean to you."

It had been two weeks since the two monkeys had 'saved' Camila by leading Lauren to her after she'd become lost in a huge storm. Camila remembered little of it (and believed even less), but Lauren still vehemently declared that she owed her life to those monkeys. She'd become so taken with them that she'd named the pair after Clarke Griffin and Commander Lexa.

"But you still seriously expect me to believe that this monkey, a non-sentient being, somehow got it into her small primate brain to help save me by communicating to you through a convoluted imitation Camila-like tantrum that you should follow her to where her mate waited, guarding over me until your arrival?"

Lauren looked sort of numb. "Weell", she started slowly. "When you put it that way, it does sound pretty crazy, but I swear that's what happened." She carried the full trap over to the grass where Camila sat and started to dump its contents on the ground.

"Please, don't do that", Camila whined seriously. "If I even have to look at another fish, I think I'll..."

It was too late; Lauren had already up-ended the basket and the fish flopped out onto the ground.

"Ewww", Camila moaned and was just about to move away when something caught her eye and she turned back to study one of the fish. "Does that fish look familiar to you, Lauren?"

"Huh? They all look the same."

"No, that one", she pointed a no-longer well-manicured nail at one of the larger fish in the pile. "I think I recognize it."

"Okay, Camila. Maybe, you're right. Maybe, you do need a break from eating fish. Take all the time you need."

Camila wasn't listening. She'd pulled out the nail file from her battered Prada bag and approached the fish with a gleam in her eye. "You didn't think I'd know it was you, did you?", she said, addressing the flopping fish.

Lauren held out her hands carefully. After all, she could do a lot of damage with that file. "Calm down, Camila. You need to take it easy. Uh ... uh." She was way out of her league here. "Deep breaths. Yeah, try that." She demonstrated by inhaling a shaky breath.

Meanwhile, Camila was ignoring her. She quickly picked up the 'familiar' fish and with one well-practiced slice of the knife, or file, in this case, spilled the fish's entrails onto the ground. Her next move made Lauren seriously consider how she should go about restraining her because Camila dug into the intestines and started squishing them between her fingers.

"Camila... I swear I'll never catch another fish again. W-we'll find something else to eat, I promise ... just please stop this. It's not healthy. If you need to take out your frustrations, we can find a better way." Man, I sound like Dr. Phil.

Jammed (Camren)Where stories live. Discover now