'Til It Ends

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  • Published: 17 Apr 2013
  • Updated: 16 Apr 2013
  • Status: Complete
"Eight days," whispered Camille in disgust. "Eight more days and I'll be stuck in this freakin' body," Repeated Camille this time in agony and in fear.
No more wasting time. Eight days and the last balloon will pop. Now Camille searched everywhere just to find a guy to love her put an end to this curse that was thrown upon her when she accidentally killed Caira. But time is running, will her hero arrived in the right time or will she be stuck in a different body forever?

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1. Eight To Wait

    Staring up to nothing, Camille seemed to recalled how things have been when balloons never came to her life. She leap to her feet towards the balcony on the east side of her bedroom.  

    Oh God! I hate balloons. She thought in disgust as she looked up as the pink balloons seem to position itself at the ceiling.

    Real Kiss. Real Love. 

    Camille, with her long tanned legs paired with  flat belly and curves upon her thighs; those wonderfully grown breasts where her dark brown hair reaches that parallels her figure; her lips so kissable, skin so touchable, eyes so irresistible, added up with her approved fashion sense, no man can ever reject her. No man had ever rejected her not until she turned into physically alike to her frenemy, Caira. 

   T'was hundred balloons at first, until as each day passes, one balloon pops and fade away. Ninety-two days ago, the room was filled with pink balloons that never burst out, but on Camille's current situation, who would love to set off a balloon that corresponds as one day in your life? 

   Camille couldn't stand wasting her time so she decided to try her luck again. Who knows it might work out? Grabbing her sling bag, she rushed out of the house and settled in her black convertible. 

   Past days had been hard, hanging out with different guys just to seek the right one. She felt so desperate, so helpless in the situation. Blonde long hair with bangs that raise through her eyebrows, whiter than before, legs not as long as it was back then; she always knew she couldn't be as seductive as she was since the curse was played on her. 

   I never intended to kill you, T'was an accident! She thought in sadness. She never dared to look in the mirror for her reflection haunts her every time. 

   Looking at her notebook calendar, tears started rolling down her cheeks. 

          February 1 - Mall w/ Louis (fail)

                        . . .

          February 28 - Park w/ Nick (fail) 

                        . . . 

          March 3 - Movie w/ Alex (fail) He slept and snoozed so loud. Very LOUD

                        . . . 

          March 7 - KTV bar w/ Sanders (fail)

                        . . . 

          March 12 - Train Station w/ Henry (fail)

                        . . . 

          March 13 - Fitness Center w/ Bill (fail) Shh! He's so hot. Why fail? T_T

                        . . . 

          March 19 - Neighborhood w/ Clark (fail) Kissed him but he's lame...

                        . . . 

          March 24 - Restaurant w/ John (fail) 

                        . . . 

          March 26 - Beach w/ Adrian (fail) He only loves to have me in his bed

                        . . . 

          March 30 - School w/ Thomas (fail) Only loves lecturing me! T_T

                        . . . 

          April 2 - Library w/ Andrew (fail)

                         . . . 

          April 3 - Errand guy Kevin (fail) 

 

     And so on it all went failed. Damn. Camille shouted inside the sedan. She leaned her forehead on the steering wheel and could even barely breathe.  Grasping for air, Camille started the engine. 

     Turning to the highways, she accelerated the speed and laugh in defeat. These days never brought her anything but misery that stripes out her entire humanity. What an experience it could be but it made people call her a big slut. Since the curse, Camille found her way to rent for a new house knowing she couldn't have chance to explain to her parents and anyone else before being thrown out and dispatched. 

    "I've been everywhere," She exclaimed. "Where in the world should I go now?" Camille had been apparently driving in no distinct direction.

    The car came to halt when a red light suddenly came into view. Damn. She moaned.

    Real Kiss. Real Love.

   Out in her thoughts, Camille extended her head out of the window and abruptly stopped the car. Up the stars flicker against the depths of the dark sky. It came to her mind that maybe she was just fooling herself. Its one in a million chance to find your soulmate and you can't just go out with different guys to find him. What if its the one hundred second guy? No time. She shook her head in the realization. 

   Camille braced herself as she entered the cemetery. Lamp posts provided her a good view of the area. Little walk and she found herself standing before a grave, neatly carved in elegant script states:

   Caira Grant 

   She shivered with the thought somewhere beneath her, under the think massive groups of soil, Caira's remains are slowly decaying. The kind Caira who was her friend... and enemy. That same copy of her, Camille thought, is under her, rotting. 

    Six days left... Two.......

 

    and

 

    One...

 

    I'm back. She greeted the Caira with agony in her voice. Looking on the fresh tulips she'd brought recently now grouped with the rotted ones she bought earlier, hopelessness destroyed the beauty of her aura.

    

    Four days after the very last balloon popped 

 

    With every inch of courage left, Camille finally decided to look at her face in the mirror, Caira's face, her new face. Weeks ago she never imagined that this day will come where she has to accept every single shed in the body. Walking slowly in the direction of the bathroom, even in the slightest way she hope acceptance will outnumber everything. One step, and another, and then another one until she reached the room ten feet away that seems like a world away. Opening her eyes, she came to a halt and merely fainting.


   Oh my! She gasped.

   Camille's reflection.

   No longer blonde.

   That lost face. 

   What happened?

   Impossible.  

   How could it be?

   Its her. 

   No not Caira's, but her. The real one. 


   "Good Morning babe," Michael said as he entered the room with a pink peculiar balloon in hand. He smiled at their reflection and turned to Camille, brushed his lips slowly to hers. 

   "My hero," Camille replied between kisses.
 
    And the last balloon will remain forever, no pop, no bang, no burst, no good bye. 

   

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

   

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