The nights were short, sleep was few, and the days lasted for seemingly years.
With each day Honey Bear's curls became more distressed. The camp became desolate, and the meals were like wet cardboard.
The second morning I was awoken to the sound of a bugle. As an accomplished trumpet player I can tell you that whoever was playing needed to practice more.
The wail of the sad sounding horn cracked and lost it's pitch all across the camp. I groaned and turned over in my bed.
"Allllllright happy campers! Rise and shine!" Honey Bear announced. She threw the covers off of an extremely UNhappy camper. The girl just laid there with her back turned.
"Let's go let's go girlies!" She sang out, "We've got an amazing breakfast just waiting for you!"
She waltzed out of the cabin, swinging the door shut behind her. Zoe sat up in the top bunk next to mine and grabbed her head and her hands.
"God I will make her pay..." she muttered.
I sat up, squeezing my eyes shut against the protruding morning sun rays. My tank top didn't shield me from the cool breeze making it's way through the cabin.
The sad, sad, bugle player let out one last dying tOot to signal the start of the morning.
After putting on our camp uniforms, an ugly, dark green T-shirt with a canoe on it that read "Paddle to the metal" and Khaki shorts with hiking boots, we walked out of the cabin as a group.
The breakfast was more slop, smelling of moldy bread and last nights bean casserole.
YOU ARE READING
Fallen
Ficción GeneralLia is about to kill herself. Until her best friend begs her not to. Lia's story is told in flashbacks, showing what made her go this far. At the end, she will have to chose. Life. Or Death.
