camp || m.c. (on hold)

four

That night was the monthly acceptance picnic by the lake, and I was already dreading it. I knew it was part of my recovery, but being subjected to a large crowd like that was terrifying in and of itself. I could already feel my chest start to tighten, and the picnic was still three hours away.

Sarah, it turns out, had seen 3 of the picnics. She told me that they weren't that bad, but I doubted her with all my heart. What social event could be anything but bad?

---

"Maddie, you're going to be fine," Sarah again attempted to soothe my rapidly beating heart. I wiped my palms against my jeans anxiously.

"Of course my mom arranged for me to come here on the very day of my doom!" I wailed over-dramatically, putting my head in my hands. Sarah rolled her eyes at me from her bunk, spinning onto her stomach.

"Stop whining, Mad. You're not going to get better if you don't start now!"

"I don't want to get better! I just want to go home and move out and live with a bunch of cats for the rest of my life!" I howled, burying my face in my pillow.

"God, you're so dramatic. Calum has social anxiety too, but I never hear him going on about it like this!"

"Shut up," I shouted into my pillow.

"No." I could practically hear her smirk, and my muffled groans fell on deaf ears.

---

My feet crunched on the dead foliage laying on the path as Sarah and I walked together to the lake. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't feel as frightened of Sarah as I would be of other people. I don't know if it was because I knew she had issues too and that she wouldn't judge me for me being a freak, or if it was because of some underlying similarities I felt between us. It was just easy to talk to her.

"How many people are at this camp?" I asked her in a hushed voice, not wishing to disturb the distinct calm that lay over the entire forest.

"About 50 in all. But 20 or so don't come to the picnics. They're in the ward, mostly because of violence or criminal records," she chuckled slightly, "You'll be fine, Maddie."

Jesus. Criminal records? What a nice camp!

Sarah prodded my shoulder suddenly and gestured to the large expanse of white sand beside a crystal clear lake. My throat went dry as I noticed all of the people milling about, talking with each other and laughing. One boy was sitting on the pier, and one looked like he was hopped up on RedBull mixed with coffee.

"Sup! I'm Michael!" RedBull shouted into my ear, and I flinched. Michael was oblivious to my struggles and continued to run knee-deep into the lake, tossing his head back to look at the pink and orange streaked sky.

"He's been on a manic streak for well over 2 weeks," Sarah muttered, "The only time he shuts up and stops shaking is when Luke plays the guitar."

"Is he bipolar?" I asked, and Sarah nodded.

"They have him on so many medications, and none of them work on either his depressed or manic phases. He's been here longer than I have."

I gazed at the boy in fascination. His hair was a light blonde, similar to mine, but it looked brittle, like he dyed it a lot. He seemed to be having such a good time, and here I was, trying not to have a mental breakdown in the middle of the crowd.

"He's cute," I blurted out suddenly, and even I was surprised by my own words. Sarah eyed me in amusement, and I blushed. "In a crazy kind of way," I added sheepishly. Sarah laughed a little, and I grinned.

"Go talk to him," she suggested, and the smile dropped from my face along with all color.

"You're kidding, right? I might as well just light myself on fire!" I protested in a tight voice that rose after each word. Sarah laughed a little and shoved me forward. My feet were almost touching the lake, and I shuddered.

"You're insane!" I whisper-shouted, trying not to draw the attention of anyone else.

"All of us are, in reality. Go on. He doesn't bite...usually," Sarah snorted, then smiled. I rolled my eyes and stepped cautiously into the clear lake.

"Hi, Michael. I'm Maddie." My voice came out stronger than I expected, which still was pretty pathetic. I hadn't really expected to say anything at all. Michael whipped around, but his gaze softened when he saw me.

"Wow," he breathed, and I stiffened, "You're really hot." Leave it to him to have no filter whatsoever. I blushed and looked down at my feet, which were clearly visible despite the lake water.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Michael's voice was so quiet, I had almost forgotten how hyper he was just a moment earlier.

Truth was, I couldn't talk if I tried. My throat seemed to be closed shut, and my mouth was so dry it was probably growing a cactus or two. So I just shook my head. Michael frowned, then turned again to look out across the lake.

"It's real pretty out there. You can see straight down to the bottom. Peaceful and all. Helps calm me down if I'm having an episode. I just call up Rod and he takes me out on the boat. Sometimes Luke comes along too. His music helps my hypomania, not as much of the depression." He spoke very quickly, but his voice was like honey. It flowed so easily and smoothly, and I wanted to reply so badly. And I ended up wishing I could answer so much that my throat loosened up.

"I've never been on a boat. I don't go out much at all, actually." Michael looked over at me, and I smiled a little. Michael frowned.

"We need to fix that," he determined, and I hastily shook my head.

"No, no really, I'm fine staying on the beach. Alone," I denied his offer, and Michael ran his fingers through his hair.

"You have social anxiety," he diagnosed after a moment of silence, and I just nodded. "That must suck."

"You get used to it," I muttered, looking over at the dreamy eyed boy next to me.

"Are your parents used to it?"

"My parents think I'm clinically insane," I sighed. Michael laughed loudly.

"So do mine, but they have a little more reason to think that way," he mused with a smile on his face. It soon morphed into a grimace. "Well, shit. Coming off a high here."

He was right. That look of euphoria he had earlier was being swiftly replaced with one of indifference. He rubbed his face tiredly.

"Your mood changes really fast, doesn't it?" I commented, turning my blue eyes to the matching water. Michael just nodded and sighed.

"At least I have a hot girl around to point that out for me now. I would've never known myself, really." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. I rolled my eyes, and kicked at a rock on the bottom of the lake with my foot. My toe stubbed slightly, and I resisted the yelp of pain building up within my chest.

"I hate this place," I muttered, more to myself than to Michael, but he just chuckled.

"Me too."