ELARIS, 2024

ELARIS, 2024

he Sun cast a golden glow over the suburban streets, where children played freely, their laughter filling the air. Camila, only thirteen years of age, darted through the backyard, her bare feet pounding against the warm grass. The world was bright, and her heart was light, filled with dreams and adventures waiting to unfold.

“Camila! Come help me with dinner!” her mother called from the kitchen, her voice a comforting melody amidst the symphony of childhood.

Camila paused, looking back at their cottage. It was a small, cozy home, with white-washed walls and a charming blue door. The garden was a riot of colors—vibrant flowers blooming alongside the tall palm trees that framed their property like guardians watching over them.

“Okay, Mom!” she shouted, her voice carrying over the laughter of her friends.

She dashed inside, a whirlwind of energy, ready to assist in whatever task her mother had in store. Inside, the aroma of spices and herbs filled the air, making her stomach rumble. Her mother stood at the stove, stirring a pot of something savory, a smile lighting up her face as Camila approached.

“Can you pass me the garlic, sweetheart?” her mother asked, her hands deftly maneuvering the wooden spoon.

Camila nodded, scrambling to grab the small bowl on the counter. As she handed it over, her mother’s fingers brushed against hers, a fleeting touch that sent warmth coursing through her.

“Good job, Camila. You’re going to be a great cook someday,” her mother said, pride shining in her eyes.

“Just like you!” Camila beamed, feeling the weight of those words settle in her heart. Her mother was her hero—strong, loving, and fiercely protective.

But beneath the warmth of their domestic bliss, something lurked in the shadows. Whispers of danger floated through the air, carried by the wind that rustled the palm fronds outside.

Later that evening, as twilight descended and painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, Camila sat on the front porch, her feet dangling off the edge. She watched as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced on the pavement. The laughter of children faded into the distance, replaced by the soothing sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the shore.

“Mom, what’s out there?” she asked, pointing toward the darkening sky, her curiosity piqued by the unknown.

Her mother settled beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Out there is the world, Camila. It’s full of wonders and mysteries, but also dangers. Always remember to be careful.”

Camila nodded, her young mind grappling with the duality of her mother’s words. She felt safe in her embrace, yet the weight of the world’s darkness pressed against her innocence, whispering secrets she couldn’t yet understand.

The night deepened, the stars twinkling above like tiny beacons of hope. As she gazed upward, Camila felt a stirring within her—a curiosity, a yearning for something beyond the confines of her suburban life. Little did she know, the shadows that lurked in the world outside would eventually intertwine with her fate, leading her down a path where beauty and darkness danced in a haunting waltz.

** Moments pass…. and that same evening, after having a heartwarming conversation with her mother...Camilla finds herself sitting alone in her room dancing with her thoughts **

***

The dim light of the room cast a warm glow over Camila as she sat on the floor, with her legs crossed and a collection of magazines strewn around her. She held a pair of small scissors in her hand, as she cut carefully around the images of glamorous dresses and radiant celebrities. CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! She's been cutting into various kinds of magazines for a while now, looking for beautiful models and nice-looking faces, trying to make collages of her own view of what beauty really is.

Camilla was looking for a view of who she was in her own eyes, she was searching for herself in the mirror of other faces in these books currently laying in front of her, looking for herself in the eyes of these magazines before the eyes of the world could tell her who she was, and all of those answers came to her in bits and pieces, pieces that have been cut and fused together to create a clearer view on the vision she was aiming for.

What she found in these dazzling books were glimpses of her future, perhaps something that she wanted to maintain from this point going on, and although she was still young, merely at just thirteen years of age, maybe she was too young to decide on what kind of future fate has for her, but she wasn’t young enough to learn how to pave her own life, her way.

She was piecing together her own vision of beauty and style on a large poster board, different figures where made and put on the side to later be accompanied by unique dresses and outfits to make her models look a certain way, perhaps she had a vision for fashion, or maybe she was designing the next big thing on the market, nobody knows but her own self and the group of faces now sitting next to her. It was her escape, a creative outlet where she could mold her dreams into something tangible.

**While sitting in her room with a dim light on, a light that was bought by her father, currently placed on top of the dresser. **

She looks briefly at the name "Reyes" written on the envelope, which she got from school. Her gaze flicked to the envelope, before she enchantedly looked at the name “Reyes” printed neatly on the front, before looking down and up again. She read it out slowly, reading it aloud to herself, as if she didn’t know who it belonged to, before pausing and briefly checking the doorknob to her room.

To check if no one was standing behind her, perhaps feeling something eerie about the environment in her room, as she knew what that note was about.

It was a school envelope that held a note from her teacher, one she was supposed to hand over to her mother. But tonight, the envelope felt heavy with significance, as if it carried more than just a simple message about her homework.

Outside, the screech of tires on gravel pierced the stillness of the evening. Camila’s heart quickened as she walked to her window, curiosity pulling her closer to the glass. She peered down to see a dark car parked in the driveway, its engine idling ominously.

Suddenly, she heard her mother’s voice from the other room, raised and sharp. “Not right now, John! I’ve already told you that I’m busy, and it is Camy’s night off from total chaos. I don’t want her seeing you today!”

John? Camila’s stomach dropped at the sound of her father’s name. She felt a familiar tension knot in her chest.

As John began to knock on the door downstairs, Camila's mother rushed to the entrance, the phone slammed down on its stand. Camila felt a mix of dread and helplessness wash over her; the arguments were a regular occurrence when her father came to pick her up for his turn of custody.

ACT 2

The muffled voices carried through the house, an uncomfortable backdrop to her quiet sanctuary. Camila knew the drill—how these encounters usually unfolded, the angry tones that filled the air like a storm threatening to break. She hugged her knees, feeling the envelope’s weight like a stone in her hand.

Conflicted, she picked up the small luggage bag she had packed for her stay at her father’s. She walked to her door, ready to descend the stairs and deliver the envelope. But as she paused outside her room, the intensity of the argument downstairs made her hesitate.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone? You always come back when it suits you!” her mother shouted, frustration lacing every word.

Camila felt torn, caught between loyalty to her mother and the urge to fulfill her duty as a daughter. She stood frozen for a moment, torn between the fear of her father and the love she had for her mother.

Despite the confusion, she shook her head and slipped the envelope under her pillow. Her mother had been so adamant about keeping John away for a reason.

Determined to not let the chaos overshadow her evening, Camila began gathering a few things from her room, stuffing them into her bag—her favorite stuffed animal, a book, and a pair of pajamas. Just as she was about to leave, she glanced at the envelope again, the familiar handwriting taunting her with its significance.

Her mind drifted back to her mother’s words about the world. Camila had always admired her mother’s strength, the way she navigated life’s challenges with grace and resilience. But her father was a different story—a shadowy figure in her life, someone she had grown to fear.

She paused on her way down, taking a breath as she contemplated her next move. The image of her mother embracing her at sunset filled her mind. She realized how blessed she was to have those words etched into her heart at an early age.

With a sudden burst of resolve, Camila ran back upstairs and entered her mother’s room. She placed the envelope gently on her mother’s bed, a silent acknowledgment of her commitment to honesty, no matter how hard it might be.

Feeling lighter, she made her way back downstairs, her heart racing with the thrill of standing up for her own beliefs. She reached the bottom step, and her eyes met John’s as he stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a look of irritation etched on his face.

“Camila, come here,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

She hesitated, the weight of the moment crashing down around her. What would she choose? Would she step into the chaos her father brought with him, or would she hold fast to the love and safety her mother provided?

With a fleeting glance back at the stairs, where the warmth of her mother’s room lay, Camila took a step forward, her decision made. But deep down, a small part of her wished to fight against the storm brewing in her family’s life.