Geronimo

Prologue

"Mom, for the hundredth time, I don't need any friends!" I screamed at my mother, frustrated that she still didn't grasp the idea of self sufficiency.
"Lydia honey, ever since your father passed, you've seemed to have isolated yourself from the world. You're like a hermit or something."
"A hermit?! Are you kidding me? I don't see anything wrong with being alone. You seem to have handled it alright," I snap back, my intense blue eyes piercing.
"That's it, young lady! You're certainly going to that summer camp and your room whether you like it or not!" She orders, shooting her pointer finger towards the staircase.
"Ugh!" I groan and stomp up the stairs. I slam my bedroom door, causing a precious music box to come hurdling off my shelf.
"No!" I scream, rushing over to the shattered memory. I kneel down next to the broken ceramic shards and burning tears spill from my eyes. I attempt to fit the pieces back together, but they are too small.
Go ahead, laugh at me. I treasure a stupid, pink music box that plays the tune to, "You Are My Sunshine". But the thing that's special about this particular music box is the fact that my father had given it to me right before he passed. Whenever it plays its sweet tune, it's almost as if I have a piece of my father. Now that piece is broken, and so is my heart.
I walk over to my desk, being careful to avoid the scattered sections on the wood floor. After not so gracefully navigating my way through the maze, I pull open the bottom drawer.
I drop to my knees and grab a little glass box that is heart shaped. I crawl over the scene and carefully place the delicate shards in the box. After I finished cleaning up, I placed the box back in its home.
I walk over to my bed and plop down. I grab my laptop. My fingers hover tentatively over the keys.
I begin to type:
Summer Hill Camp Vermont
I clicked on the first website that popped up and it took me to a bright colored page with the bolded words: "This is gonna be great!"
Oh, joy, I think I roll my eyes dramatically. I click on the info tab and my eyes scan the page.
"Are you looking for friendships that will last forever?" No.
"Are you in for the best summer of your life?" No.
"If so, Summer Hill Camp in Manchester Vermont is for you!"
The more I continued reading, the more horrified I grew.
I was dreading participating in stupid activities meant for 5 year olds. Blue berry picking, really?
My summer is going to suck.
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Despite my constant pleading to stay home all summer, accompanied only by pizza and Netflix, I was forced onto a cramped flight headed for Vermont.
"Have fun, honey bunch!" My mom called after me as I wheeled my carry on toward my boarding section.
Shortly following take off, I hit play on my favorite playlist and popped earbuds into my ears and leaned my head back against the seat.
An hour later I was awoken by a light tap on the shoulder. I yanked out one ear bud and shifted my eyes to meet a tall lady with a clipboard.
"Would you like a beverage, mam?" the stewardess with a plastered smile and brunette hair slicked back in a bun asked, WAY too sweetly.
"No thank you," I responded, flashing a quick half hearted smile.
"Not even a tea, Coke, Sprite?" She prodded.
"I said no!" I nearly screamed, causing half of the passengers to stare in my direction. What had gotten into me?
I laughed nervously and returned my earbud back into my lobe.
The flight flew by in a flash.
"Welcome to Burlington, Vermont, I hope you enjoyed flying with us!" The loud speaker shrilled.
The next thing I know, I'm being driven by cab to the camp facility.
The car pulls into the gravel drive and I step out, only to find a dozen screaming teenage girls.
Yippee.