Decoy (Camren)

Chapter Eight

*trigger warning for death/suicide*

September 25th

I groggily wake up to the sound of my phone ringing beside me on the bed, reaching over to discover an unknown number flashing across the screen. I squint my eyes as I try to decipher the number, the bright hue irritating my corneas. I instinctively grab my gun underneath my pillow as I answer the call.

"Hello?"

"C-camila, it's Troy." His voice seems ragged and scared, like he's been crying for hours.

"Troy, what's wrong?" I cautiously step out of bed, my apartment pitch black. My alarm clock reads that it's 2:41 in the morning, and all I can hear is his erratic breathing through the receiver as he's yet to say anything. "Troy, are you there?"

"I need you to come to your window," he cries.

I furrow my brow as I open my bedroom door and slowly make my way down the hall, peaking into Elise's room to find her fast asleep. The apartment is quiet, and the uneasiness of the situation makes my heart beat out of my chest.

The streetlights from outside shine through my living room window, illuminating the room in streaks of silver. I walk over to the window and look through the blinds to see Troy standing underneath a lone street light on the opposite side of the road. From where I'm standing I can see that he's petrified. He's shaking, pulling his black petticoat tighter around his body as tears stream down his face.

"I'm here, Troy. What's going on?" I look down the street in both directions in search for anyone who might be near, but all I see is the boy across the street looking at me in desperation.

"He told me you had to watch," he sobs as he brings a gun out from underneath his coat and shakily holds it in his hand. My breathing becomes harsher as I realize what he's about to do.

"Listen to me, we can fix this. You don't have to do this," I beg as he brings the loaded gun up to his chest.

"Ally thought she was protecting me, but I've been getting playing cards with messages on them for weeks, and I can't let him hurt my family. I'm sorry, Camila." And then he pulls the trigger, and my mind goes blank. Everything happens so quickly that I forget to breathe it feels like. One minute I'm banging on Elise's door telling her to call the police, and the next minute I'm outside cradling Troy's body in my arms.

It feels like I'm in a dream that I can't quite wake up from. My thoughts are hazy, my actions lethargic and out of this world. It isn't until I feel Troy grab my hand and lightly trace letters into my palm that the haze lifts.

"Tell her I love her," he breathes. I look down at him to see his blue eyes fill with tears, blood slowly starting to trickle out of his mouth. Concerned neighbors have started to gather around, but I keep my attention on the dying boy in my arms. Sirens begin to wail in the distance when I feel tears of my own escape.

"You can tell her. Just stay with me, please." I hold him closer as he closes his eyes. "Please stay with me," I cry. I feel his body relax in my arms and I know he's gone, his last breath whisked away in the wind.

The next time I come to, I'm sitting in the passenger seat of Elise's car in front of the girls' mansion. She takes off her seatbelt and turns to face me, turning off the dull noise of the radio in the process and drowning us in silence.

"Camila, look at me," she says. 

I keep my head down, continuing to stare at Troy's blood stains on my hands and clothes, almost like I've killed him myself...maybe I have. My favorite NYU shirt is ruined, but I don't care. This is all my fault.