In a stereotypical movie scene way, summer camps for children who needed help were seen as outdoor cabins, decorated with a large fire pit in the center of them, and a lake just a few yards behind. However, Camp Turn-Around was not that kind of stereotypical. Rather, the camp was held at an old army base, where there were multiple bedrooms for the children, multiple rooms for counseling sessions, a mess hall, bathrooms, and sports fields. It was a six week program that was guaranteed to whip together any misbehaving child and make them into a proper civilian in society. Children were to remain on the property until the six weeks were completely over, no home visits on weekends included. It was rumored to be that if the children weren't turned around by the end of the program that they'd be sent to live in a psych ward for a year. However, this was just a rumor, and not the actual case.
Counselor Jeremy Michaels had already settled himself into the office where he'd be staying for the summer. Though the program was pretty full for a rural area, about eighty children and teenagers, Jeremy only had a total of five troubled children and teenagers to help during the summer. These included: a young seven-year-old boy who had an obsession with vandalizing and setting things on fire, a seventeen-year-old girl who had a troubled childhood from being a foster child and would get sexual with older men, another young seven-year-old child who had run away multiple times, a very anti-social thirteen-year-old, and another fifteen-year-old girl who had found herself in the way of doing drugs and living the party life. It appeared to Jeremy that he would definitely have his hands full this summer.
"Settling in well?" A womanly voice caught him off guard, and Jeremy peeled his gaze away from the window to his doorway, where he saw the headmaster of the camp walking in. He was surprised, not hearing her thick heels thumping on the carpet.
"I am." He swallowed. Quick and sweet to the point. Talking to the headmaster always made him nervous, and being at the workplace, he always acted professional. It was rare to see him act like a social butterfly. "When will the children be arriving?"
The woman walked a bit further into the room, resting her hands firmly on the windowsill. Her eyes locked out somewhere onto the sports fields. "Well, when I last looked, it was roughly 10:45. We informed the parents to have their children here by 11:30, so we have about forty-five minutes before orientation begins." She slightly moved her gaze, watching a car go by before standing upright, looking at Jeremy with her big brown eyes. A smile crossed her lips, and her lipstick emphasized how pearly white her teeth were. "But, I expect that your patients rooms be made up by the time they arrive. It is your obligation to make them feel at home, not the janitors." And with that, the woman turned on her heel and walked out the door.
That was right. Jeremy couldn't believe he'd forgotten about his duty to prepare the rooms for his patients. The man walked over to his desk and sifted through the papers in a large beige folder until he found the records on the children. On this sheet laid the order of bedrooms, their curfews, and schedules for the days. He'd need this sheet for figuring out which rooms he had to situate for the children before their arrival.
The current building he was in belonged to the offices of the counselors and head officials. The building to the right was bedrooms for children aged five through twelve. The building to the left was for teenagers, thirteen to seventeen. The buildings were divided up by the floors. Each building had a total of five floors. The first floor, or bottom, was for the check in area, waiting room, nurse office, janitorial area where blankets were stored, and for the guards that were in charge of making sure no males slipped into the female floors, or vice versa. The second and third floors belonged to the females and the fourth and fifth floors belonged to the males. It was the same in both buildings. Across the lawn was the mess hall, which also had the auditorium in it, used for announcements.
Jeremy walked out of the building, keeping his expression straight, and holding a slightly firm grasp on the piece of paper between his fingers. There was no wind, yet he just wanted to assure that there was no chance of the wind picking up and flying the paper away. Personally, he did not want to go back indoors and reprint another copy of this sheet. It was a pain to get into the system with all of the secure firewalls and incredibly long logins. This was simply to assure the fact that none of the children got onto the officials computers and change the reports on their progress. If the children weren't ready to leave, they weren't ready to face the world with a new face. Lying on a report would only get bad reviews from the community and from parents who'd spent the money on making sure their child changed at Camp Turn-Around.
Thankfully, the janitors had done a favor for the counselors and already left the blankets on the dressers in the bedrooms. It wasn't long before Jeremy had finished making the beds and had prepared the bedrooms for the children that would be staying the summer with them. It had been a tiresome effort, with all the walking up the stairs, hunting for the rooms, and making sure the blankets were on the mattresses neat and straight. Truth be told, Jeremy was kind of a neat freak. He had a feeling these troubled children would mess up the beds anyway, but after the first day, the orderliness of the bedrooms was none of his concern.
Well, that was a lie. They would stay his concern for the next six weeks.
Jeremy walked back into the building and made his way back into his office. The paper slipped its way back into the beige folder, all snug, and the male made his way to the window. He raised his hand up and gently brushed over his slight stubble, looking out as the wind rustled through the trees. The way the sun hit the grass gave it an illuminating green, giving a calm feeling to the room around him. Jeremy walked back to his desk and lifted the glass travel mug he had with him, drinking from it. He only drank water. Most people would expect someone who drinks water to carry a normal water bottle, but he felt better carrying a travel mug.
"Hey. Maybe you can help me out."
A female voice startled him, and he peeled the mug away from his lips, looking over to see a young girl standing in his doorway. Oh, this must be one of the patients. He thought to himself, setting down the mug on his table. He then motioned his hand, as a signal for her to come into the office. "Name, please," His voice rolled out, and he pulled out his list of patients, seeing if this girl was one of his.
