Chapter 11

Cameron sits in the corner of the room, crying

Cameron:(thinking) I can't belive he did that.

She can hear Johnny from behind the door

Johnny; Cameron, come on. Open the door. I'm sorry I cut your arm but I didn't know what else to do.

Cameron gets up and opens the door

Cameron: I'm the one that should be apologizing.
Johnny; Cameron, what got into you?
Cameron; I don't know.
Johnny: Is there somthing you're not telling me?
Cameron: No, it's okay, I just get a little insecure at times.
Johnny: Okay, but just so you know if somthings wrong you can tell me.
Cameron; I know.
Reverend Meat:(thinking) I kinda feel sorry for doing this to her but it's too much fun.
Cameron; Johnny? Have you ever felt like somthing else is controlling you?
Johnny; What do you mean?
Cameron; You know, you feel like somthing else is controling you and telling you to do things that you don't want to. Like... voices in your head.
Johnny; I used to, but not anymore. Why do you ask?
Cameron; No reason really.
Johnny: Cameron, I can't help but think there's somthing going on thet you're not telling me.
Cameron; I told you, there's nothing wrong.
Johnny: Alright.

Cameron notices a comic and picks it up

Cameron: Happy Noodle Boy?
Johnny: Yeah, it's just a comic that I write.
Cameron; Do a lot of people read it?
Johnny; I don't really know. I'm not sure if anyone really even likes it.

Cameron flips through the pages

Cameron; Some of this is actually pretty funny.
Johnny; Have you ever drawn anything?
Cameron; No, when I need to let somthing out I usually just write in my journal. Most of my entries are poems.
Johnny; Really?
Cameron; Yeah, you want to hear one?
Johnny; Sure.

Cameron gets out her journal and flips through the pages

Cameron: Here's one.
Standing alone
Staring into the dark
Wishing there was someone
Who could heal my broken heart
Fallen with the darkness all around
With broken wings
Just a broken angel on the ground
Hurt by so many things
Will time stop the pain?
Will it ever go away?
Or will I just get hurt again
On another day
Johnny; Wow. You write some pretty sad things.
Cameron; I never really had anything happy to write. Every time I write a poem, it's like everything I feel inside is just pouring onto the paper. I don't have to think about what to write, it all just comes out.
Johnny; So it's how you deal with your problems.
Cameron; Most of them, yes.But sometimes a poem just doesn't help.
Johnny; And that's when you start cutting yourself.
Cameron; Yeah. I was always amazed by the sight of my own blood. But now, I've become so numb to the pain that all I want is to feel it again. Sometimes I wonder if the blood loss will kill me. I used to always think I had nothing to live for.
Johnny; That's not true Cameron. Listen, you may think that nobody cares but the truth is I care. Even Summer, well I kinda went over board but she cared, in a way.
Cameron; Summer was way too creepy for me to really care if she cared about me.
Johnny; She seemed to.
Cameron; I guess. But you killed her so it's only you.
Johnny; It's better than nobody. Even if it isn't everybody.
Cameron; You are everybody to me. Everyone I meet on the street are just faceless shadows without a name. They don't care about anyone they pass by whether it's a child playing in the park, or a hurting person like me.
Johnny; And this is all stuff you've kept inside?
Cameron; I always kept my pain bottled up. Nobody cared.
Johnny; I always thought nobody could ever have a life worse than mine. I went from a happy childhood to feeling hated. But you.. you were never happy, even during your childhood you were hated by everyone and even now you're still in pain.
Cameron; I guess that's life for me and the way it's going to be.
Johnny; So, what else do you have for poems in there?

Cameron flips to the very first page.

Cameron; I have this one that I wrote before I met you. It was the first day I was given my journal.
I feel like a bird
Wishing to be free
My voice is never heard
This isn't where I want to be
I can beat my wings
Till the cage bars are stained red
I'll be the bird that sings
Unheard until the day she's dead
I wish to fly
To be free
I don't know why
They just can't see
Johnny: You wrote that when you were little?
Cameron: Yeah, I guess I always had a talent for poetry.
Johnny; You have what it takes to be a good poet.
Cameron; I guess.
Johnny; Well, your poems are very good.
Cameron: Thanks.
Johnny: I wonder if htere's anything good on tv.
Cameron: I never really watched tv, nothing ever looks interesting, ever since that show was cancelled.
Johnny; What show?
Cameron; It was just a show that got cancelled a few yaers ago because of complaints.
Johnny; This show looks interesting.
Cameron; Johnny, that's the news.
Johnny; It's still interesting.
Cameron: I guess.