Camera Shy
Karmen ducked her head, snapping at Ellen as the flash went off on the latterâs phone. âDelete that now. You know I donât let anyone take my picture.â
âItâs wrecked anyway,â Ellen groused. âI only got the top of your head. I donât think anyone wants to see a picture of your side part.â
Karmen held her hand out for her friendâs phone. By now, the routine was familiar to both women. Ellen rolled her eyes, but dutifully held out the phone. Karmen scrolled through a dozen photos, making sure there were none of her before handing it back.
âI donât get why itâs such a big deal.â Ellen sat down across from Karmen. Their server approached with menus. âIâve never met anyone so camera shy. Did you have some kind of traumatic camera experience as a kid?â
Karmen stared at Ellen a moment, started to answer, then didnât. Theyâd known each other for six years. If Karmen had a best friend, Ellen was it. But could she really afford to have a best friend? What if she told Ellen the truth? Would it really be that bad? Remember the last time? It was bad.
âWe should order.â Karmen picked up her menu, changing what she had been going to say at the last second. She could feel Ellenâs eyes scrutinizing her through the menu. She had almost slipped. She was becoming too comfortable. Donât trust anyone. Donât get too close. Maybe it was time to move on.
âYou act like youâre in the witness protection program.â As Karmenâs menu slipped from shaking fingers onto the floor, Ellen gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth. âYou are in witness protection!â
To Karmenâs panicked ears, Ellenâs whisper sounded as loud as a gunshot. The gunshot she heard and saw over and over again. The gunshot that invaded her nightmares, leaving her awake, drinking coffee at two a.m. She had started to set the coffee pot up before she went to bed at night.
Karmen had known what she was doing when she had walked into the police station eight years ago. She had understood that testifying against Bobby would mean she would have to leave everyone and everything behind. But her conscience wouldnât let her do anything else.
She had suspected he was involved in something illegal. Theyâd been dating six months when heâd confessed to her that he was related to one of New Jerseyâs biggest crime families. Theyâd never discussed it again. She should have left him right then, but sheâd been in love, or so she thought.
Somehow, after that confession, she had allowed herself to accept more and more of Bobbyâs life. Once she had started down the slippery slope, it seemed there was no way out. His kingpin uncle gave the dinner toast at their wedding and bought them a house for a wedding gift. By then, Karmen had stopped letting herself think about where the money came from.
All that changed the day she came home early from a Paris shopping trip with her best friend. She might have expected to see Bobby with another woman. That she might have been able to get over. Instead, she walked into their living room just as he pulled the trigger, gunning down her friendâs husband.
Karmen froze, unable to process what she had just seen. Then she ran. She didnât make it to the door. Bobby was on her in an instant. âKarmen. Stop. Wait. You werenât supposed to see this.â
âThatâs your concern?â Karmen choked out. âThat I saw you? Not that you just murdered my best friendâs husband?â
âKarm, you know what I do. You know this is part of it. He was skimming.â
But Karmen hadnât known. Or maybe she hadnât let herself know that her husband was a killer. It suddenly occurred to her that he might kill her. She let Bobby lead her to their bedroom and waited while he brought her a sleeping pill and a glass of water.
âWhen you wake up, this will all be over. Iâll have it all cleaned up.â
Karmen pretended to swallow the pill. As soon as Bobby closed the door behind himself, she spat the pill out and packed a suitcase. She left through the balcony door and snuck down the stairs leading to the back yard. She didnât even try to sneak to the front to pick up her car. She knew Bobbyâs uncle had had it bugged when he bought it for her. Bobby had warned her.
Karmen threw her suitcase over the fence separating their yard from their next-door neighborâs. Then she had walked an hour and a half to the police station, where she told her story and agreed to testify against her husband.
She had survived three attempts to silence her before Bobbyâs trial date. Terrified, she had nonetheless testified before being whisked out a side door and into a new life. At no point was she allowed to see her friend. She didnât even know what had happened to her. Maybe the family had killed her as well. The police wouldnât discuss it with Karmen. Sheâd read about the guilty verdict in the newspaper of her new hometown.
Karmenâs handler created a new look and a new name to go along with the new town. Karmen hated both. Two months of nightmares and loneliness later, she had met Shauna. Theyâd quickly become friends and, despite explicit instructions not to, she had told Shauna her story. Shauna had told everyone she knew. Karmen had had to run for her life to another new identity, another new look.
Now, sitting across the table from Ellen, Karmen imagined everyoneâs eyes on her. She felt a gun aimed at her head. Running would only make it worse. People really would stare. They would remember her.
She reached down and picked up the menu. âDonât be silly. Iâm the most boring person youâd ever want to meet. Why would I be in witness protection?â
As Ellen looked back at her, skeptical, Karmen motioned the server over to the table and ordered. By this time tomorrow, sheâd be on an airplane headed who knew where. Her heart broke, knowing that this time she wouldnât make the same mistake. Donât trust anyone. Donât get too close. She added another restriction to her life. Donât make friends. This time, when her handler relocated her, she would follow the advice heâd given her in the beginning. Sheâd get a dog. And a cat, she decided. Maybe sheâd end up a crazy cat lady. Maybe this was how they all started out.
This story came from a pair of related Reedsy prompts. The first was to write a story that began with someone taking a picture. The second was to write a story about someone who is pathologically camera shy. Iâm not sure Karmenâs fear of having her picture taken is actually pathological, but I decided this was close enough to the prompt parameters to count.




I found it believable. Except maybe about the part of her escaping the crime family ever! But I only know The Sopranos!
I couldn't stop reading. Will I ever know if she finds joy again. I'll pretend, until then đ