82

Camille

The cool night air wraps around my body, soothing my mind like ice against fire.

It's the only thing that can balance me and calm the myriad of thoughts clashing in my head like the rough waves against jagged rock in a tempestuous storm.

And yet, my chest still hurts, my lungs still feel tight, and my heart is still fragile, like it might shatter if I think too much.

I've been here for hours, sitting on the balcony outside the bedroom. It was just after midnight when last I checked. Usually when I get like this, the pool would have seen me by now.

But the cacophony of emotions tearing me apart feels different to anything else I've ever experienced. I'm scared that if I move, I'll fade away and become nothing, not even a memory. Like Mischa Butyrskaya.

Is that really who I am?

If that's me, what happened? How did I get to be here, living the life of Camille Galitze?

And what happened to the real Camille?

Mischa Butyrskaya.

I've tried on the name several times in my mind and on