Welcome to camp

Things fall apart

The smell of cooking meat wafted through the house in the early hours of the morning. All the residence were up at the unreasonable (for normal people) time, but they were unbothered by it. Y/n was doing barbell curls in his room. The weight wasn't very heavy given the fact he was just eleven, but he wasn't going to let himself get out of shape just because he was at home.

His room was very plain, with beige walls and a polished wood floor. All the furniture was wood, not that there was much furniture, just his bed, a rocking chair, a desk with a normal chair tucked under, and a bookshelf. While most kids his age were wasting their time on social media, Y/n would spend all his time doing things they would consider weird. But he never understood why they would play games about being outside when they could do the real thing.

Many people would call Y/n abnormal. Obsessed with the outdoors and learning skills that he would likely only need if he purposefully put himself somewhere that requires it; skills like shelter making, how to test if something was poisonous, and making weapons from sticks and stones. The last one had gotten him in trouble several times at school, but surprisingly hadn't hurt his social life when he cut a bully with an improvised knife.

While it would surprise most people seeing the modern Y/n, he was actually very social. He was the lovable goof who never quite fit in, but everyone liked anyway.

A shout filled the house.

"Oi! Kid! Get down here and say goodbye!"

Y/n put his dumbbells away and rushed downstairs. The smell of BBQ grew stronger with each step until his mouth was watering profusely. Running Into the garden, he saw his parents.

His mother was a tall woman, with sunkissed skin, short auburn hair combed messily to her left that never seemed to not be slightly ruffled, and bright yellow eyes. She wore a dark green cargo vest and black shorts, both showing the toned muscles she'd gained from years in the wilderness.

His father was half a head taller than his mother and had much fairer skin, with light brown hair tied in a ponytail that reached his shoulders, and dark green eyes. While Y/n's mother had a very athletic runners build, his father looked more like a bodybuilder, his physique shown clearly by a white polo shirt and tan cargo pants. The difference in build made the married couple all the funnier to anyone who saw them interact.

They were both standing over the grill, his father holding the tongs as his wife berated him while lightly hitting his back repeatedly.

Mother: "C'mon, how does cooking take this long? Just hurry up!"

His father sighed as he put the food onto plates.

Father: "I couldn't exactly make the food cook faster than it already was."

She rolled her eyes.

Mother: "Course you can, just turn up the heat."

She grabbed a plate of sausages and set them on the large wooden table in the garden. His father sighed, he had told her hundreds of times that it would burn if he did that, but she would never listen, then again, they were a family built on stubbornness.

Father: "Christ, how have you never starved in the wild?"

Mother: "Christ could make infinite food, if he starved that would just be embarrassing."

He gave her a look, but she just smiled innocently. Sometimes he genuinely questioned how she was the better survivor then him.

Y/n sat down at the table, joined by his parents soon after. They all piled the slightly burned meats onto their plates and began eating in silence. A breeze blew gently across their faces, getting satisfied sighs from them all now that their plates were empty.