after hours | camp camp

𝗦𝗽𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗱

"I miss my mom."

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A small kid laid down on his bed in a starfish position, unable to sleep for some reason. He kept on closing his eyes, but seconds later he'd subconsciously open them to look at the small hole in his tent flap.

That was caused by someone - he couldn't remember, he was drawing - throwing a pencil so hard that it flew straight towards his tent with enough power to tear a small hole through.

He thinks he still has that pencil.

Space Kid caught himself with his eyes still open once again and groaned.

"I wanna sleeeeeeep....." He thought with a frown.

He let his eyes wander towards the hole and saw a tiny white light that shone brightly. With further inspection, he found that it was a star.

Once beautiful star that was just small enough for him to see.

He slid off of his bed after plopping a fishbowl on his head and walked slowly towards the tent entrance that was zipped up to prevent someone or something to enter it without damaging it. He zipped it open and cautiously ducked his head under to exit the semi-warm enclosure.

There, despite the trees surrounding him, blocking his sight, he became mesmerised by the sky.

It reminds him of his mom.

Oh, wait.

The smile that creeped up on his face disappeared and a frown replaced it, his expression morphing into a sad one rather than the soft one he had seconds prior.

"Mom?" Space Kid whispered, forgetting entirely that he was at camp, not home. When he got no reply and remembered where he was, his frown deepened, and he was urged closer to the edge of crying. He misses his mom.

The stars reminded him of her, but why? She went out stargazing with him on the lawn or a balcony when he couldn't sleep, but she wasn't there now. She was all the way back home, and he was in the middle of a forest with all his friends. They were miles and miles away from each other, and Space Kid didn't like that one bit.

But he knew he had to hold back the urge to ask someone for a phone so he could call her.

He called her the first day of camp, only an hour after he was dropped off.

"Mom, I miss you."

"Sweetie I miss you too, we'll see each other again at the end of camp."

"When's that?"

"In about three months."

"But I can't wait that long!"

"You have to, sweetie."

"But I'll miss you!"

"I miss you too, but you're gonna have to get used to not seeing me or dad. If you ever go to space - to which I assure you definitely will - you won't be able to call us for a very long time. Space doesn't have signal nor wifi."

He felt his heart clench, and that was the moment he acknowledged the tears going down his face.

In an attempt to wipe them off, he brought his hands up to his helmet, forgetting there was a helmet there in the first place.

They'll dry off eventually.

But he still was sad.

Maybe David and Gwen will help!

Space Kid walked over to the counselors cabin and knocked three consecutive times. He heard someone from the inside, Mr. Campbell, groan and shout some words which Space Kid did not hear through his helmet and the wooden door combined.

One second later, the door was opened, and he was faced with the person he thought it was.

"Um, hi," The older said, sounding unsure as he brought his hand up to his face to read something from it, "Space... boy?" It sounded more of a question than a normal sentence. "I miss my mom." Space Kid responded with a sniff, the latter not fully sure about what to do in this situation.

They waited in silence for a second.

"Okay."

The door slammed in his face.

Space Kid just knocked once more. He really just needed someone to accompany him awhile he tried to sleep. The door reopened, Campbell peeking his head through slowly.

"Sometimes I miss her when I see the stars." He started fiddling his fingers and averting his gaze to any possible surface that wasn't Campbell. "When I first got here, David let me call her, but she said that if I ever go to space I won't be able to call for a long time, so I better get used to it." Tears started forming in his eyes again as they engaged in eye contact. He really just needed someone to talk to. A friend to fall asleep next to. Or an adult who hates children and was previously was the prime minister of Thailand to annoy.

He sighed defeatedly, "This is my problem now, isn't it." He let the small child walk in with a slumped back with a tiny glare of 'you just ruined my day'.

But atleast he has someone who could take his mind off of his mom now.