camp fires and constellations [BoyxBoy]

Chapter One

        -the decisions you make will-
               continue to effect you
               until the day you die;
      -then years after  that as well-

                                ***

I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock constantly beeping, the ringing in my ears being too much to continue in my half awake/ half asleep dream.

By the time I had finished rubbing my eyes and making inappropriate noises as I stretched, I had already forgotten the dreams which littered my unconscious mind the night before.

I slowly peeled away my cocoon of warmth that kept me safe from the harsh December air of my unheated bedroom. I placed my naked toes on the cold oak floor boards before quickly pulling them back up again onto my mattress.

"Not today satan. Feet one, icy floor boards nil." I mumbled incoherently to no one other than myself as I carefully pushed on my soft slippers, acting as a shield from the wooden floor.

"Oscar, breakfast is ready! Hurry please, I don't want to be late." My Mother shouted far too loudly for it only being 8am.

With one final push out of my bed, for the last time this year, I walked over to my wardrobe. Hanging on the door was a calendar which displayed a different photograph I had taken for every month, a present my Father had gotten for me last Christmas.

I let a small smile scrape my lips as I turned over the page from November to December. Written inside the box correlating to December 1st was a small note that read 'camp today! Try to make new friends.' Which I could only assume was written by my Mother, unless I had picked up a habit of writing myself notes about how little friends I had while I slept.

As my brain finally started to wake up I began to notice just how nervous I was about today. Butterflies, moths, dragonflies and all other kinds of various winged beasts seemed to attack the inside of my stomach.

The fact I could smell whatever delicious breakfast my Mother was cooking wasn't particularly helping the feeling in my tummy either.

Still keeping my fluffy autumnal pyjamas on for the fear of spilling food down newly washed clothes, I headed downstairs, careful to avoid all creaking floorboards for no reason other than a cautious habit.

If my Mother wasn't wearing her glasses I'm sure she wouldn't have known I had just entered the kitchen because of how little noise I had made on my departure from my bedroom. See, I'm a ninja.

"Good morning honey, did you sleep well? I made pancakes for breakfast if you couldn't already smell them, is that okay? Are you excited for today? I'm sure you're going to make lots of new friends." She finished with an uneasy smile, making her last statement seem doubtful.

Answering all her questions at once, I gave her a small smile and an even smaller nod before pulling a heavy oak chair out from the matching dining table.

We lived in a small cottage so the majority of the house was wooden. It had large dark oak beams extending horizontally across the ceilings and gold framed photographs hanging from the walls.

Everyone who had ever visited would compliment us on how warming and cozy our home was and I wouldn't have it any other way.