Inside A Flame • •

[camden owen hatton]

Camden had three leads wrapped firmly between her long fingers and around her left wrist. Her right hand fiddled with her black iPod, adjusting the volume and the playlist before she slipped it into the back pocket of her tight jeans again. This was just another part of her daily routine, and sometimes she had to force herself through it. Leaving her apartment and going on these long, music accompanied walks could be the hardest part of her day more often than she cared to admit. Camden had to tell herself six positive things about the day ahead before she could even throw back the covers on her bed and reach for the box of pills on the bedside table. The simplest of things could be the biggest struggle for her, and she took pride in simply making it through another day without a panic attack or breaking down in tears. That was a huge accomplishment for the skinny brunette, even if it was something most people managed each day. She never really knew how she’d feel each morning when she opened her doe like brown eyes. Darkness could envelope her even if the sun was beating down on her face, or she could feel numb, a sense of silent nothingness, and as close to happy as she got most mornings.

Today had been the latter. There hadn’t been an impending sense of doom or panic washing over her as she stepped under the hot water of her shower. Camden had been able to leave her apartment without feeling as though the sky was falling in. It was a rare day and a nicety she wasn’t going to waste. It meant the dogs in her care would get longer walks, wouldn’t be rushed through the dog parks, or around the blocks they were taken on, all so the jumpy, terrified brunette could get back to the familiar safety and comfort of her apartment and her crochet patterns. These three were the last three on her rounds, and all came from the same apartment building right by Central Park. They were smaller than some entrusted to her care, and they behaved well enough that she could take the three of them at once without needing to worry too much about them becoming unruly and dragging her off.

Camden followed the curving path around the lake, glancing occasionally at the three fluffballs in front of her. She tried to keep them to one side so people could walk by with ease. At least, that was her plan anyway. Frieda, a chunky chocolate labradoodle, suddenly broke out into a run, encouraging the two others to follow suit, entangling the three leads in Camden’s hand. She didn’t run far, just across the grass to where a man and his dog were. It was still chaotic, even with Camden doing her best to call the dogs to heel. Frieda ended up running around the man to greet his pet, and the other two went the opposite way just to make life difficult. Camden felt her chest tightening like it always did when her anxiety began to climb and she was around strangers in awkward, uncomfortable situations. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Frieda, get here.” Her voice was timid, soft, and she shook the leads from around her hand so she could start making an attempt to untangle them from each other and the poor man the dogs had made their victim.

• • •

TAGGED! Bartholomew Francis Deacon
WORDS! 576!
OUTFIT! Awkward & Adorable!
LYRICS! Still Your Girl - - - Fleurie
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bartholomew Francis Deacon]

Bartholomew tried his best to keep his life together. It was difficult when students expected office hours to be whenever they needed their professor to simplify an already simple request. But that was the prerogative of university students who had more opinions on their pizza toppings than they did on what they saw on the syllabus he'd given them at the beginning of the term. He liked questions, he welcomed them but it seemed like more and more students cared less and less. It was disappointing to the old-fashioned man. The silver lining, if he could consider it one, was that he did have some students that paid attention, that was there to learn what he knew and wanted to know it, too. Those few that were paying attention seemed to realise quite quickly that he wasn't talking because he liked the sound of his own voice and that most of the things he spoke of ended up in the surprise quizzes, mid-terms, and finals. Sure, what was written in the textbooks also found it's way into his tests but it was mostly what he said. If they listened, they passed and it really was as simple as that.

Right now, however, he just wanted to enjoy his walk through the park with his dog, breathe in the fresh air and let the thoughts of what he was going to cook for supper take over his brain. He seemed to be spending so much time in his office lately that he was starting to feel a bit claustrophobic. Bartholomew enjoyed what he did for a living, it had been his dream for as long as he could remember. Sure, there had been thoughts as a small boy of becoming a firefighter, a police officer, a doctor but while they were all admirable careers, ultimately, they weren't for Bartholomew. He was too often lost in a dream world that any job that required proper attention would have been a poor choice for the professor and author. With teaching, he could allocate so much time to all the things he needed to do. Bartholomew managed to get most of his grading done while he was sitting around his office, waiting for those students who felt if they showed up to talk to him, he would make an exception to the work. The truth of the matter was, his course outline had been posted at the beginning of the year and while he continuously taught through the term and had completion dates for the work, he didn't mind if they went ahead of where he was teaching. Unpopular opinion but he preferred it because it proved to him that those few were actually listening to what he said in class and reading the emails he sent out from time to time.

Having those office hours to work through the list of papers and projects he needed to grade helped him to be able to sit at his desk at home and just write that little bit more of his next manuscript. Once he was finished with this walk and cooking his meal, that was exactly what he was going to do. Bartholomew walked along the paths until he came to a good space without many people in the way. He enjoyed tossing a tennis ball around with Shadow who was always such a good boy and acted completely wild whenever he was let off-lead, jumping around and acting a fool. He'd only managed to toss the ball a couple of times, having Shadow sit for the third when a dog rushed right around his side to greet his Black Lab. He'd been a little shocked but more so when he immediately realised there were two more coming from the other side. He looked up and understood at that moment that they'd gotten away from their owner and had wanted to make a new friend. Bartholomew wasn't against it and instead of shouting and making a scene, he crouched down to attempt to settle the three new dogs. "It's no problem at all. I take it Freida is the ringleader?" He asked, indulging the little pup with a light scratch behind the ears.

♦ ♦ ♦

TAG; camden owen hatton
WORDS; 699
LYRICS; All My Heart --Sleeping With Sirens
NOTES; <3

[camden owen hatton]

Camden knew that living her life hidden behind a wall of her own construction wasn’t going to lead to happiness. No matter how many people reiterated that to her though, none of it helped. It wasn’t a cold that she would get over in a week or two. Her mental health struggles ran deep, and dated back far too many years for her to think about. Through therapy she had identified a great deal of events and people who had contributed to her fight with her own mind, but she was definitely not the confrontation type. Most likely it would be a cold day in hell before Cammy was capable of telling her parents how they had made her resent her own existence. If her brothers hadn’t been there to help pick her up and look after her, she would have turned out a walking train wreck. Even with their supportive whispers and hands to hold there was still so much she knew she had, and continued to, miss out on.

She had never even thought about college. She hadn’t been able to finish writing her admission statements, and then after breaking down on the day of her high school graduation, college seemed like a wild dream – or nightmare. The thought of so many strangers, of such a consistent crowd made her want to hide in her bedroom all day. Tai had gently suggested remote learning, where she could stay behind a computer and still pursue an education, but he emphasised that it was something she could do when she felt ready. That was the main difference between her five brothers and their parents; her brothers understood that Camden needed to take baby steps and accept new things in her own time. Her dad, however, was still prone to ranting about how she was wasting her life and being a burden to Tai. Tai, who never thought anything of the sort, was often away in other states through his work with the military, so he had absolutely no issues with his sister taking the spare room and keeping the apartment clean. Cleaning was a distraction when her anxiety crept up on her, but it was a far better solution than crying in the shower or hiding in bed while the rest of the city went about its business.

The rest of the city had nights out with dancing and drinking, or successful careers and wonderful families. Cammy had the dogs she walked and a bagel shop that she enjoyed going to for a take-out lunch. It wasn’t a life to boast of, but her wages got her things she needed when she needed them, but mostly it was saved up for the day when she figured out which direction she wanted to take her life in. She didn’t envision that day coming any time soon, but she was at least laying the financial foundations for when it happened. However, the only direction on her mind right now involved untangling this man from the dogs. “Uh, yeah.” She relaxed a fraction when she realised he wasn’t going to scream at her over what had happened. Nevertheless, she still wanted the dogs back in order and at her side. He was, after all, still a stranger, and Camden did not do well with strangers.

• • •

TAGGED! Bartholomew Francis Deacon
WORDS! 554!
LYRICS! Still Your Girl - - - Fleurie
NOTES! <3 <3 <3