When I Went To Camp Bandicoot... [A Riley Story]

The Beginning

I walked into my little sister's third grade classroom and was immediately surrounded by little girls. The girls all reached up, desperate for hugs. "Okay, okay! You'll all get a hug! Just be patient." I said to them. Only one girl was at the back of the line, Piper. "C'mon Pipe." I said. I squatted down and held my arms out for her. She smiled and ran over. "You always give the other girls more attention!" she pouted. "Piper, you're my sister, I get to see you everyday at home and almost everyday here, so don't be stingy!". "You're my sister, I have the right to be stingy! Plus, the only way I get to see you here is because you volunteer to help my class after your school lets out!" she laughed. "Yes, I guess you're right." I chuckled. After I gave the other girls hugs (and some of the boys) I sat down in the Story Chair. The Story Chair is why I volunteer at Piper's class almost everyday. It's where, just before school let's out, the kids will sit on the carpet with pillows and I will sit in the Story Chair and tell them stories, as to let their teacher clean up and get ready for the following day. The children love for me to tell them stories, and I love telling them stories. Their excited faces as they get ready to listen and I get ready to tell always reminds me of why I want to become a writer, to bring people happiness. Sometimes they want stories like 'Cinderella', or for the boys, 'Jack and the Beanstalk'. Sometimes I tell them stories that every kid already knows, like the ones above, and sometimes I tell them stories that I've written, but a lot of the time they ask for one specific story, a story which I'd rather not tell, but who can say no to a child's face? As I sat down in the Story Chair I asked "Which story do you guys want to hear today?". "Oh, oh!" Shouted a boy named Daniel from across the rug with his arm raised. "Tell us about 'Him'!" he enthusiastically shouted. "Yeah, yeah!" was all I heard as the other kids nodded their heads in agreement with Daniel. I sighed. This was it, this was the story that I hated to tell. The kids didn't know how much I really hated telling this story, but like I said, I want to become a writer to help bring people happiness. If that's why I want to become a writer, who am I to deny a group of third graders, whom I volunteer to tell stories to, their favorite story? I just had to suck it up and deal with it. "You guys really want to hear this one again? I told it to you just last week!" I stated the obvious, already knowing the answer before I ever received it. "Yes!!" was their reply. I sighed again, I knew it. "Okay," I said, "but don't get mad if I mess it up a little bit! I'm telling this story by memory, and it has been a week." I was messing with them, and they knew it. I was procrastinating, and they hate it when I can't finish a story before they have to leave. "Just start the story already!" I heard a little girl named Lucy yell from my right. I laughed at them. "All right, all right! Here goes...."