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Jennifer Cameron

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2022

Stories (15)

Comments

Library

36 Followers

11 Following

15 Stories

454 karma pts

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White roses

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #193

White roses lay twisted together on a blanket of dark mahogany, their thorns protruding and plucking dust mites from the air that gently circulated. Her face smiled at us from a gilded photo frame, all dark brown hair and sharp jawline and green eyes the colour of bell peppers. ‘Erin had loved a little too hard, a little too much and been just a bit too beautiful for this world.’ Callie’s voice broke over the shards of glass lodged in her throat. She swallowed, continued, ‘My Rin had to go somewhere that could match that beauty, that intens...

18 likes

Ice and fire

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #191

Brandon and Margo. The two names that would forever be fused together because one killed the other and that kind of makes them inseparable in people’s stories. Apples had littered the street, outlining parked cars and folding in on themselves as the wind took bites out of them. Margo pulled her coat closer to her body, Brandon kicked an apple out of the road and onto the cobbled path in front of her. That’s how they met, via rotten apples. And in a way there’s a sort of poetry to the symmetry because that was how they departed each other to...

14 likes

My last story

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #176

I stumbled across the word ‘serendipity’ and it’s meaning engulfed me like hot flames. It means the art of finding something beautiful without looking for it. To see a butterfly’s fragile wings in vibrant yellows and muted peaches, the sound of the sea spitting at rocks that had been softened by the cruelty of time, the taste of ripened blackberries breaking apart on your tongue. We don’t look for any of it and yet the world offers it to us anyway. In the same way, the world offered me writing and I graciously accepted. Bookshops had been pu...

14 likes

Aperol

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #175

I birthed you, bottle fed you, bathed you and then I buried you. At 28 your pulsating heart had decided it had been broken too much to meld itself back together. You always had loved too hard and too fast. And now I broke like I was showing my solidarity with you, whilst my fingernails collected dirt in half moon shapes. The earth was neat and compact, and he was sat on the grass adjacent to me, his legs crossed and eyes wet. It had actually been his idea; Ashton had said we should plant a tree in your memory for future kids to climb the s...

14 likes

When we were wallflowers

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #174

mentions of drugsThe beauty of being shrouded in yesterdays is that you are blissfully ignorant of all that you will learn in the todays. Yesterday I had no idea that I was capable of murder, today there is no doubt. My eyelids closed delicately and released the singular drop that had been waiting for a slight movement to shimmy it down my cheek, tracking a path through tan foundation. It started 12 years’ worth of yesterday’s ago, that’s it. That’s all it took. And I can see your face contorting into a look almost like bewilderment but let ...

14 likes

Black coffee

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #173

I always thought it meant more to write about pain, heartbreak, death… because who hasn’t felt the knots in their gut when something twists inside them and felt the fraying ropes pull apart. It resonates more because we’ve all felt it. We haven’t all felt the pure unfiltered love story that I’m about to tell you, the sort of imperfect love where you’re in your early 20s trying to navigate through a labyrinth of love and life that feels familiar and yet is still so new to you. It is so like the movies in that all that matters is me and you, ...

17 likes

Bookshops aren't libraries

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #173

Includes swearing There was something about the smell of vintage paper; worn and yellow and dog-eared corners that had been flattened out and then creased again. The ink that stained the pages with words that couldn’t become unsaid once spoken aloud. She drifted through the aisles, this wisp of a person with hair that was blacker than the nights in the depths of winter when even the silver penny of a moon is obscured by clouds. She was everything that writers would romanticize in the stories she was browsing. You wouldn’t believe me, but s...

18 likes

My Acacia

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #172

Mentions of domestic abuse, emotional manipulation, self-harm and suicide references, mental health issues and mild swearing. No one sees the wolf but me; cobalt grey fur and piercing eyes, one blue and one green. She’s gorgeous so it seems fitting that her name is Acacia meaning ‘queen of the wolves.’ Red pearls bubbled up through the tears in my skin, melting and merging into one another to create a crimson river. Over time they would knit together and form silver lines on my once untarnished canvas. I am simply paper that has been paint...

14 likes

blood stains don't just wash away, ya know

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #171

Mentions of PTSD and domestic violence. Blood smeared across my left eyebrow, crimson and glinting as the moons light caught it. The windscreen wipers waved a sombre goodbye as they battled against the relentless rain throwing itself against my windows. I’d come back tomorrow and the next day just like I had after the bruises lined my jaw. A smile flitted across my face before perching itself comfortably on my lips. 4 years ago it had been different blood coating my skin. It had been victim blood. He’d hit me with a force that would cause m...

13 likes

Violets

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #170

I’ve got a plan. My pale fingers folded around the small bouquet of Violets grasped in my cold palm. Death had a way of distorting things, of changing perceptions. Here I am bringing you flowers and yet just because I killed you everyone thinks they’re better than me, that I’m the lowest of the low. I don’t see any of them bringing you flowers. Well, they probably did in the beginning, but it’s been a whole life sentence since then and the only remaining petals are grey and crisp with dying veins running through them. But you understand, do...

17 likes

Sincerely Yours

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #169

Dear Bradley, I dressed for death today, burnt oranges and smoky greys. Everyone else is wearing black but that is such a cold colour, and you were all fire and warmth, so I wrapped myself in your fire to say goodbye. I don’t really know how to write today, and my tears are staining the page, now the ink is smudging but I needed you to know that I’m thinking of you. Your mum said, ‘I know how much you loved him.’ She was trying her hardest to be sweet but how awful to think that it’s all past tense. I’m thinking of you Brad and I’m loving y...

21 likes

Your last journey

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #168

I wish I could tell them to stop worrying now, because this really is quite nice. It’s more peaceful, it’s more me, I think whilst staring out the recently cleaned window at mountain peaks coated in mist and marshmallow clouds. They all cried when I died, those great big sobs that seem to take over your whole body and I guess it was nice in a selfish sort of way to know that I’ll be missed but it still felt like all the veins in my heart were being pulled opposite ways to see them so upset. Heartbroken was the word mum had used. The train g...

21 likes

blue memories

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #166

I was 7 when my dad went to jail for the first time. My childhood was blue carpeted visits halls and those blue jeans he always had to wear and his intense blue eyes that seemed to hold something more than he was letting me see. It was all very blue. He came out when I was 14 and then went back when I was 15. Almost like he couldn’t be outside with us, like the big green acres of land behind our house was just too open for him and our hugs too full of love that he wasn’t ready to receive after 7 years of having it limited to short hour-long ...

17 likes

Rum, smoke and poetry

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #165

Rum, smoke and poetry. The three things that actually meant something to me. And the same three things that would come together within 10 short seconds to end a life. Sip, feel the burn and now swallow. That’s the rum. Take a drag on the Cuban cigar I’d been saving for just this moment. Exhale and see the smoke curl in front of your nose. That’s the smoke. Hold up the oily black metal. Shoot. And that’s the poetry. Because isn’t it poetic? Isn’t it just so romantic how lives can start and end with lovers? And that, as you walk away puffing o...

14 likes

Unlocked

Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #164

Leaning on the car bonnet I stared out across the fields sliced into sage squares and grouped together buildings lit up under the fading sun. The time of pre evening where bubblegum pinks and honey oranges bleed across the sky and the moon looks like a pale wisp the clouds forgot to take with them. ”Home.” I whispered over the cliff edge, watching it all below. All the lives that never stopped when I left. I pulled a hastily rolled up cigarette out my pocket and amused myself in silence for a few minutes whilst the tip burned and ash fell in...

12 likes