D I S C O N T I N U E D
❝Yes, I have been told I'm too rude to be from Amity. Has anyone ever told you that you're an asshole?❞
In which a girl who was meant to be kind must fight for her survival while also trying to keep a secret that could c...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ARE YOU AFRAID?
Camilla was having the worst morning of her life. The first problem came the moment she woke up and realised she was running late for training. Camilla assumed it was because she struggled to get to sleep again that night, but the reason didn't really matter, what mattered was she had only a few minutes to get ready and then haul ass to the training room before they noticed she wasn't there.
The second came in the form of a rip in her pants. She had been so dead set on getting them up that instead of stopping when they wouldn't fit over the bulge of muscle on her thigh, she kept pulling, resulting in a horrifyingly loud tear throughout the room. However, Camilla had thought quick on her feet, not bothering to search for another pair of her pants that could fit (considering her only other work out pants were covered in paint) and instead raced to Will's bed and slipped on a pair of his. Camilla hoped he would be okay with it, but deep down knew there was nothing to worry about. Will was a kind soul, and Camilla truly appreciated that, especially at that moment.
With Will's pants on, and an overly tight shirt clinging to her body (making Camilla thankful for her rather flat chest), Camilla slipped out of the quarters, racing down the halls and past the cafeteria. She had no time for breakfast, or a shower, or anything if she wanted to even try and make it on time. Luckily for her, the halls were relatively empty, and anyone who was awake gladly stepped out of the way to avoid the mess of a girl — the few who didn't received a shove or a shout.
Her third problem — which wasn't so much a problem and more so the catalyst to an even bigger one — happened when Camilla came barging into the training room, throwing the doors open in a dramatic fashion, and interrupting Eric while he was speaking. The look he gave her was enough to make her want to run all the way back to the transfers room and hide under her blankets, but Camilla managed to stay put, breathing heavily as she apologised for her tardiness. Thankfully, Eric had never found out about her and Peter sneaking off the night before and had simply thought they were hiding like the rest of his team. Camilla was sure that if he had found out, then the three knives in his hand would no longer be there, and instead probably embedded somewhere in her body.
Cheeks red hot and more flustered than ever, Camilla closed the doors before quickly scuttling to her transfer friends and slotting herself between Christina and Will. The latter of them recognised her pants almost immediately and was eying her suspiciously, while the former had her eyebrows raised, inquisitive about her dishevelled appearance and entrance.
"I'll tell you later," Camilla assured the two of them quietly, thinking that things possibly couldn't get any worse now that she was in training.
Oh, how wrong she was.
The knives were her fourth, finale, and biggest problem. They felt awkward in her grip as she held them, passing them from hand to hand as she tried to get a better feel for them. They were cool against her palm; sleek and shiny, but Camilla was already feeling her distaste for them as her nimble fingers wrapped around the handle; preferring to be holding a gun instead.
