Camilla.

Camilla.

The wind was warm, comforting. A reminder that she wasn’t alone, not really. The sun beamed down, a great big smile in her direction, a hello from an old friend. It seemed like a lifetime since she’d felt the heat on her skin, having been in the darkness for so long. So cold in that corner of her mind, she found it hard to see past her problems, to hear reason. But now she could hear birds, chirping and singing. They were singing for her.
It was turning out to be such a beautiful day. And if it was this warm now, at 8am, then it was bound to be at least 25 degrees by midday. They tell you to stay out of the sun, when it’s at its highest point in the sky. Just like they tell you you can’t have everything you want. She pictures herself, sunbathing, later in the day. Reading and listening, headphones in and bikini on. A jug of iced cucumber water just out of reach, sheltering under the shadow of a tree. She sits up, crosses her legs and pours herself a glass. Closing her eyes, she leans back, feeling the heat on her body. She’s at peace.
She almost gets lost in her daydream, feeling butterflies in her stomach and infinite possibilities in her future. There are no clouds anymore, she can see and hear and dream again. Her life starts today.
She turns to rush back inside, excited and catches a glimpse of her reflection in the patio doors. Bringing her back to reality, she stares at herself, at who she is now. A moment passes, she’s frozen still but her heart is beating fast. Another moment goes by and then she smiles. She can be whoever she wants to be, but first she needs to wash off the blood. And change the bed sheets. And move his body.

Photo by Pawel Czerwinski

© 2021 Ema Shawcroft