Healing Takes A While.

A Camp Rock Story.

MPOV

"GET INTO YOUR ROOM, MICHELLE! AND STAY THERE!"

Aunt Mildred held a wooden spoon and with a quick twist sent it spiraling towards me. This was expected but it scared me. I knew it would hurt. I screamed and ducked as the spoon knocked into a pan, sending the coco beans raining down on the linolium and myself. I crawled desperately for my room and dove inside, slamming the door. I leaned up against the door and exhaled, panting. Then the tears came as I looked at the crumpled mess of what was a granola bar.

All I'd wanted was a snack. They barely fed me here. My aunt had caught me and blew up.Uncle, ever-busy, had ignored the enitre thing as he worked on his laptop.

I poured the pieces into my mouth, some falling onto the carpet from my trembling fingers. My stomach rumbled, demanding food. Tears still running down my face, I got up and knelt by my beside table.

I bowed my head. Lord, I beg of you, mericful lord, I prayed. Get me out of here, please. Ahmen.

I prayed to God every time something like this had happened, which was often. Now they were becoming more desperate, as I was.

"I miss you, mom," I whispered. "Why?"

Why had a drunk driver killed my father? Why had my mother lost her memory because of the accident? Why couldn't I have died, too, instead of experiencing a shattered arm and an abusive aunt and not caring uncle?

Why?

My face was wet. Soaked as I reached under my cot and grabbed the evelope of pictures.

The pictures from Camp Rock.

My favorite place in the world.

I spread them out on the floor and cried as I looked over them.

Me and Caitlyn Gellar, making cupcakes. I had frosting on my nose. Caitlyn had a pink streak smeared across her cheeks. We were laughing.

Mom and me, standing and smiling as Caitlyn snapped the picture.

The scenery. Beautiful Camp Rock.

I stopped at one of the last pictures,a dull ache in my chest. Connect 3, Caitlyn and myself, standing together outside the mess hall, laughing. My arm was wound around Shane Gray's arm, his arm around my shoulders, staring down at me. Jason had his usual confused look and Nate was cracking up, Caitlyn giggling beside him.

So many memories held together in one second. I looked so…happy. When was the last time I had smiled?

The next one made me stop and pick it up. The ache became a full on blow as I stared at it.

A close up of Shane and I. Shane had held the camera away from us to take the picture. We made funny faces at the camera and the photo was hilarious.

Staring at Shane's handsome face made me remember our parting words.

"You'll keep in touch with me, Mitchie, right?"

"I promise."

The only promise I'd ever broken to him. My others were still intact.

Remember him. Don't lie to him again.

Remember him….

"I remember you, Shane Gray," I whispered. "And I miss you." Almost as much as I missed my dad and mom.

Tears leaked down my nose, splashing onto the photo.

I put it down and curled up on my side. I grabbed my pillow and sobbed into it. There was already a stain of water damage on it, but I'm not sure that it was because of my tears or poor washing.

I sobbed into my pillow for a long time, moaning "God help me," over and over. A sharp knocking and the door bursting in made me stop and jump away.

"Michelle keep your voice down!" my aunt snapped. "Understand?"

I cowered in the corner, trembling. "Yes."

"You may want to think about making dinner some time soon." She turned to leave.

"And you might think about actually treating my like a human being," I whispered.

She heard. "What?" she demanded.

I froze. "Nothing."

"We're having chicken stir-fry," Aunt Mildred snapped. "Get to it."

I nodded. "Yes ma'am." I got up and waited for her to leave. She walked away and I darted to the kitchen.

A half hour later, with a "Hurry up with dinner, Michelle!" every five minutes, dinner was ready. I placed the big bowl in the middle of the table and went to sit next to the stove. I ate whatever was left.

Which was usually not much, no matter how much I made.

My aunt had never liked her younger sister. She carried out her anger on me. I never really understood what mom had done to Mildred but I'm guessing it was bad. Or she was over reacting.

Eventually, when my stomach felt like a shrunken air hole, my aunt and uncle Martin left the table. I jumped up and grabbed the bowl. I stared at what was left.

Ten small pieces of chicken and a few bits of vegetables. I greedily gulped it down. It was gone in a minute. My stomach felt a little better.

Maybe I could just ask….

"Aunt Mildred, ma'am?" I asked hestinantly.

"What?"

"Might I have a little bit more food? Some yougurt or a sandwhich?"

"If you were that hungry you should have made more dinner," she answered, going back to her newspaper.

"I used the last of the ingredients. I used it all."

"Not my problem."

I sighed. "Please?"

"Fine! Get a slice of cheese then go to your room. I'll see you at breakfast. We're having omlets."

I eagerly ran to the 'fridge and yanked it open. I looked over my shoulder and back at the food. I was wearing a sweatshirt that had huge pockets. Quietly, I snuck in a strawberry, some Kraft American Singles, a few pieces of bread and a tiny package of goldfish.

I shut the door and hurried back into my room. As soon as the door closed I breathed a sigh of relief. I had food. For now.

I tore at the bread and stuffed the strawberry in my mouth. I chewed the food quickly, then ran to my tiny, microscopic closet. I stuffed the food away. Something caught my eye.

It was the outfit I'd worn at Final Jam. The day when I finally spoke out about myself. The day Shane (and myself) had realized I was the secret singer he'd heard on the first day.

Would I ever get to go back to the one place I loved?