Foreigner of Fire

1 - The Drive

The trees tower over both sides of the road, giving off a good amount of shade – but not enough to shield the sky. The sun is low, giving the feel of an iridescent canvas above as the bus moves along the path. Its destination would be the grounds of Camp Interact, a haven for socialites and friend-seekers.

The seats of the bus are worn out and the leather is torn in random places. They're not the best seats, but are comfortable enough to sit through for a few hours.

Looking out of the window with headphones in her ears, sat Lily Powell. She wasn't particularly listening to anything right now — except her father's sermons from church. She would occasionally pause to write down a new line in her journal when it came to her head. The journal sat on her lap neatly, filled with poems of love for her lord and saviour, Jesus Christ.

She was from a little town south of Detroit. Her father was the minister at the only church and her family held honor. She was their only child and already held a degree in English Language and Literature from Central Michigan University. This camp was meant to be her breather before she re-continued her education to complete her masters in August.

Her parents had been delighted when she told them about the camp. They had told her to enjoy herself and behave. She is a good girl – she knew how to behave.

She turned back to her journal again, pausing the ongoing sermon.

They all belong beyond...

She wrote. Lily decided to read the poem once more before drifting back into her thoughts again.

Liest claiming fright,
In the silent dead of night,
Though souls they should repent,
Thy father shall amend,

My father saved us all,
Your sins, my sins, he called,
They all belong beyond,

She closed her journal, leaving her pencil inside as not to lose the page. Pressing play on the sermon, Lily turned to gaze outside the window again. Not much time remaining until she reached the camp, but might as well try and finish the poem – there was only a line remaining to complete her second stanza.

The bus slowed down at her stop before she could think up a line. Lily paused her sermon, put her journal into her backpack, and pulled it on as she got up to get off the bus.

The air was cool outside and it smelt like fresh grass. Overhead, the sky was now painted in orange and purple hues as it began to darken. Her shoes hit the gravel path at the edge of the road leading towards the camp gates and she marveled at the crunch sound. She looked at the ground as she headed towards the gates and noticed that some grass lining the path were flattened down – possibly since people trampled on it.

The wooden fence gates were left open to welcome the new comers to camp and two counselors stood at the gates to offer the campers a welcome treat. Lily politely declined, not wanting to have a sugar rush at this time of day.

Inside the grounds, it smelt pleasantly of chamomile and jasmine oils, along with the rich burning wood of the campfire. Lily looked around, breathing in the sight of the camp.

There were a lot of cabins. The brochure to the camp explained that each camper had their own sleeping cabin, to practice some form of privacy, although this was a social camp. It looked like a little village, with signs in front of each cabin and the cabins leading all the way down to the silvery lake. The bigger cabins were more easily recognizable; the mess hall, and the showers – separate cabins for male and female, which Lily was satisfied with. There was also the craft cabin, specifically designed for crafting, art and music. Lily didn't particularly enjoy or dislike music, she just kept away from it. The songs of today weren't exactly what you would call decent.

There was a board propped up near the counselors' cabin. Lily headed over and read the notices. It was a list with the designated cabins. Lily was meant to be in cabin 8, further from the others, but closer to the lake.

She walked across the path, not relishing the sound of her shoes on ground as much as she did on gravel. Her eyes scanned the surroundings. There were a lot of campers standing outside – most of them looked like they had already finished unpacking and were already socializing. Lily herself was pretty bad at being social. She hoped that the camp would change that for her.

Reaching her cabin, she smiled near the door. The sign 8 was carved into the wood above the door. She took out the little key that was stuck into the lock and opened the door to her cabin, walking in slowly. Inside, it smelt like...Well...It smelt like wood. Lily turned on the lamp at the bedside, guided by the camp light outside that cascaded into the cabin through the only window, which faced the lake.

She set her bag down on the bed, took out her journal and headed out to the lake in hopes of finishing her poem before it got too late.

They all belong beyond...

What was a fitting line for that? She looked around her. She was perched atop a rock that overlooked the lake. There was a small jetty that opened out to the river 

Flipping the page, she started on a new poem.

The breeze is light in the air,
The silver lake lay ahead,
To wade in it would I never dare,

She stopped. There was a sound behind her and she turned warily.

"Hey!" From the dark emerged a stranger. He walked under the camp light that Lily sat under and sat down a few feet away from her. "What're you doing here?" The stranger asked. His features were not all too clear for Lily, as it was quite dark out and she was nervous. Without saying a word, she got up, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. "Something wrong?" He seemed to have frowned and was now getting up. She didn't hesitate, but turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could towards her cabin. She locked herself inside and drew the curtains.