The Training of Camille - Session 2

Camille let her head fall over her chest and I decided that it was a good moment to touch her soft skin with my bloody hands. I touched her chin to raise her head. I was playing the psycho. The world was full of them, from dictators to simply sick killers. It was hard to come to an understanding of my nature. Perhaps that's one reason why I had to write stories like this. Perhaps by writing about psychos I could come to understand more of what was inside of me.

As I raised Camille's head and looked at her expression, a sweet feeling came over me. It was not lust, it was not desire, it was love. I was falling in love and I felt that it was tragic. The age difference, etc. When I met Margot she was 21, I was 34... there was a big difference. When we were leaving Hungary together, her grandmother ... she had a grandmother then, warned her about our age difference. Camille is barely 19 and I'm over 40... if there's a big difference, this is it. How could I be falling in love with her?

Camille didn't know what was going on in my heart. She only knew what I wanted her to do in a few more days. She was going to give a performance, she was going to turn into two different people, one of which was going to have a terrible end in the hands of a psycho. She didn't have any idea of what was going on in my head and my heart.