"I can't think of anything I'd rather do less," I said to Crutch Girl Mia, and walked away. I had to convince them tomorrow that I couldn't swim at all, so they wouldn't make me take stupid lessons. I decided I'd go to tie-dying and wrote my name down for that.
"Alex, do you remember where the Arts and Crafts building is?" Michelle asked when she saw my name on the list.
"I'm pretty sure I can find it. It'll be the one that says 'Arts and Crafts', won't it? The place with the paint and paper?"
Michelle did not seem to like my response. I couldn't possibly care less.
"Did you unpack?" Michelle asked as I went to the front door to leave. I decided not to bother answering and continued on my way to 'Arts and Crafts.' I had absolutely no plan to actually show up there, but no one else in the cabin had signed up for it yet, so I figured I had an hour to myself to figure out how to get out of this stupid place. Not showing up at a hobby activity might work.
I made it look as though I was heading towards the Arts and Crafts building, but instead, once I was out of view of the cabin, I went into the woods. It was quiet in there, and I figured at the very least, I'd be able to find somewhere to sit and figure some things out. No one would be able to bother me so far as I knew.
I found a rock that could hide me from view from the path in the woods, and sat down behind it, and up against a tree right beside.
This camp just gets more and more stupid. At rest hour, I found out the gimp, Crutch Girl Mia, was in the bunk beside me. I grumbled.
"Shit," Crutch Girl Mia said. "You? Really?! Maybe they'll move my bed."
"I didn't ask if you wanted me right near you! I don't even want to be here with gimps like you." I responded, rolling my eyes.
Crutch Girl didn't say anything else and put something on her bedside table. I didn't bother looking. But she did start slamming drawers. I just turned the volume up on my phone.
"You should probably unpack," Crutch Girl said. "Otherwise the counsellors will do it for you, and then you'll never find any of your stuff."
"I don't think I will," I said, laying back with my phone as loud as it would go.
I realized a short while later that Crutch Girl had left. And then she was back.
"Where'd you go, gimp?" I asked her.
"I have a name, you know. I've already told you. It's Mia," Crutch Girl said.
After 'rest hour,' where I just lay on my bunk and listened to music without the benefit of earbuds, we were supposed to meet in the cabin's front room to vote on a 'cabin name.' So lame. I went to the front because there was no way of avoiding it anyway and sat while the group debated the merit of the names they thought up. Each one was lamer than the last. I didn't bother participating in the vote. All being well, I could be heading home tonight.
They decided on 'Thunderstorms' because they're 'strong' and 'powerful.' I couldn't help but notice that no one in this group was particularly 'strong' or 'powerful.' Some of them couldn't even walk!
Once that was out of the way, Michelle told us about the hobbies they had for this afternoon. Not much. And when Crutch Girl asked if I wanted to go swimming, I told her there was nothing I'd rather do less, which leads to me sitting behind this rock, contemplating the unfairness of life and this stupid camp and my stupid diabetes.
It wasn't fair. I didn't eat a lot of sugar. I wasn't fat. I played sports. I swam. I was healthy. And now I wasn't. But I wasn't a gimp like half the idiots here. There was no reason for me to be at this stupid camp.
I wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall. All I wanted to do was go home. All I wanted to do was go back to my normal life. It wasn't fair.
I sat behind that rock for at least an hour. I had my phone and I checked the clock. I hadn't really paid attention to the time when I'd left the cabin but figured I probably should be heading back.
But then, why should I? If I want to get kicked out, not being easy to find would be a great way to do that. What's the worst they could do besides send me home, which is precisely what I want anyway?
I didn't bother getting up. Instead, I pulled up a game on my phone and started playing that. Who was really going to care if I didn't show up to pour dye on some fabric, anyway?
Eventually, I realized I'd been playing the game on my phone for a while. Longer, I think, than I'd expected. I sighed. I should probably head back. Hopefully, I'd pissed enough people off they'd have no choice but to send me home.
But I still felt miserable, a little shake and sweaty, and decided to just stay put. No one needed to see me cry. Losers cry about stupid shit like this. Diabetes. What the fuck? How? It's still not fair.
I heard voices coming from not too far, and stayed up against the rock behind the tree.
"Alex? Alex, if that's you, please yell out for help!" I heard. It sounded like Crutch Girl Mia, but it sounded far away, like it was at the end of a tunnel. I saw two figures come around the rock, but I really couldn't tell who they were anymore. The world was sort of closing in on me. One of them pulled something out of their pocket and began talking. I was dizzy and didn't really feel so great. I tried to tell them to go away, but I wasn't sure the words even made it out of my mouth.
A little while later, I heard a buzzing sound, but I couldn't figure out what it was.
There was a sharp pain in one of my fingers, and then I heard voices, but they sounded like the adults in Peanuts cartoons. It just sounded like "womp, womp womp" to me.
Then, I was surrounded by blackness, and nothing bothered me anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Different Doesn't Mean Broken
Teen FictionThis is a collaborative novel between StoryZen, who will post the same story on Inkitt, and me. Every summer, kids around the country attend summer camp. There are camps for every type of child, including sports, drama, art, and science. There are...