This was supposed to be the best thing to happen to me, this trip, trip to the raging madness that could only be described as Hell. Though, at the time I was very excited and extremely naive.
My orphanage had informed me that I would be taking two months out of my vacation from classes to attend the special summer camp. Camp McKinley.
You see, my orphanage was a dreadful place. It was a prison in many ways. It was one of little hope, less money, and was packed to the brim with tons of unhappy helpless children.
So of course I was happy to escape that atmosphere to know that I was one of the lucky drawn numbers of fate.
It all began when my orphanage decided to participate in an event in which one child from each participating orphanage across the United States would be chosen to attend a special camp.
On a selected day a random drawing would be conducted by the caretakers of the orphanages and one child from each would be selected. After selection, the winners would be picked up by employees of the summer camp and taken there, the following month.
My orphanage was ridiculously excited about the drawing. We never had much entertainment so this was a pretty big deal. It was all anyone ever wanted to talk about. The possibility of being the chosen one had everyone in a positive upbeat mood.
People were definitely behaving friendlier. I’d never been the social type so I just tried to stay out of everyone’s way, and make myself as invisible as possible. Being an outcast was the only thing I knew how to do well.
I spent my days of solitude in the safety of the quiet library that was lacking in a large selection of reads. Therefore it had barely any visitors and, was perfected by a large window in the far left behind a few tall rickety selves of outdated encyclopedias. The window view held no alluring sights, but instead consisted of an almost always empty parking lot. Though, I loved it all the same for the dull morning light that shined through on my beat up leather red chair, or for the warm of mid-day when temperatures rose and sent me straight into a comfortable nap.
We had all itched with anticipation as the day of the lucky draw approached. Our teachers had filled us with such a longing to be chosen, filling our heads with wild excitement each day with dreams of spending two months of endless fun at Camp McKinley.
There was so much to do. It had anything any child would ever want. There were waterparks, spas, makeover studios, dancing classes, exotic array of animals, and each dinner would consist of eating dishes that included foods from all over the world.
This camp really had anything you could fathom. Though, the most priced piece there was the mysterious, DAD.
I would overhear the wildest stories of the precious DAD from his fans, my caretakers at the orphanage.
Mary, a blonde over-emotional religious lady, would brag of how she had met him last fall at a meeting to end child abuse. She was absolutely silly with over-infatuation with him.
She even cut out any articles mentioning him and inserted them in a colorful scrap book, that she titled “Man of My Dreams”. Kids often joked about it in class after one discovered her working on her book in the staff break room.
I’d heard rumors that on the inside of her work locker hung a huge picture of his face. She seemed terribly obsessed.
Tally, a horribly skinny woman with grayish skin and awful dental care, another of his greatest fans said this one afternoon gossiping while clearing a table near one I sat,
"He has earned that title, ‘DAD’ ha-ha! His great being of perfection wins all of the children's hearts. The children practically praise him.” She declared and the other nodded with agreement.
“Now here is a story for you gals!" Tally's crackly smoker’s voice rose with increase of emotion. She leaned in to add a dramatic effect and said,
"I once read that he has about thirty children himself. They live with him at the camp all year round. Though, every single one of them are boys. Some his and others adopted."
All this news struck me quite odd especially that he had all boys and no girls. He was the proud owner of girl’s camp, but he only truly fathered boys.
Another thing was how someone could have so many children without the law getting thoroughly involved. I mean, a single parent raising thirty young boys on a girls summer camp. Not a great mixture if you ask me. Nothing was adding up.
Though, no one questioned any of it as they gossiped it was as if it were the normal. I let the strange ponderings pass, and let awe take its place.
He seemed too great. I had to meet him. It was my dream. It was my dream because I knew he would love me. Since he loved all children, he would love me too! I would finally have a father, my DAD.
YOU ARE READING
The Father
TerrorWhen an orphaned Sylvia heads off to a top-of-the-line summer camp, ran by a man everyone knows as DAD, she senses something is terribly wrong. Nothing around her is making sense. People are losing themselves in DAD's wonders within the camp. She kn...