Rescue: Camp Camp Dadvid

Chapter Four - Life

Max's Point of View

   I was laying on my bed. I hurt to much to move.

   They did a lot. What's scary, this was the first day back, and I can barely move.

   My arms were scratched and bruise.

   My cheek was bruised and my eye was black, but I could still keep it open.

   My ribs were sore from being kicked. Luckily nothing was broken.

   I looked at the clock. 11pm.

   Mom and Dad work until 11:30pm. Usually when they get home, I get another beating.

   I get hurt so badly. Emotionally, physically, mentally.

   Camp was actually the best summer ever. Neil and Nikki were awesome. Even Preston and Dolf and Nerris. Nerf. Ered, sorta. All of them.

   Gwen was cool, she treated me like I treated her. Quartermaster scarred me with his weird kinky sex thing, but uh . . . he was . . . fine?

   I grew close to David. I didn't really hate him. I mean, I did look at him differently when he admitted he knew the world sucked at the bonfire.

   Then the story when he said he hated camp, like I did. I pretended to hate it, but, I listened to everything.

   David was the only adult that cared. I guess that's why I acted like I did. I was jealous, first off. He was always happy, and I wanted that.

   But . . . he helped me and treated me like . . . family.

   SLAM
 
   "Max! Get your ass down here!" I heard Mom yell.

   I looked at the clock. 12:00am. Already? I must've been deep in thought.

   I got up, ignoring the pain, which was difficult. I quickly went downstairs and was immediately slapped on my already bruised cheek, but I stayed standing.

   "You fucking mistake." My mom growled just as Dad walked in through the front door. Now he's home.

   "I should've aborted you." Mom said, slapping my bruised cheek again. I fell this time. Dad walked over and roughly kicked my stomach.

   "You're fucking useless." He said.

   "You're dumb."

   "Stupid."

   "Shouldn't be here."

   "Burden."

   "Shithead."

   "You're not family."

   "You're just a toy."

   Each time they said so thing, I'd receive a pinch, kick, or slap.

   After about a half hour, they were tired out, so they went to bed. So did I, but I didn't sleep. I can't sleep anymore.

   I looked at myself in the little mirror I had in my room. Bloody and broken. I don't have any bandages to fix myself.

   Let's hope they won't get infected then.

   I sighed and layed in bed again.

   *Next Day*

   I stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling. I didn't sleep. I just stayed like that.

   I finally got up and was covered in dry blood. I quickly took a shower to get it off and after, put a white shirt on with my blue hoodie. I looked in the mirror.

   Bruised cheek. Black eye, but I can still keep it open, like before. Busted lip. I already had dark circles under my eyes. I had scratches on my arms. I lifted my hoodie and shirt to see two big bruises, one on my chest and one on my stomach.

   I sighed and went downstairs, ready to face my parents.

                          * * *

   I was on the floor. It all happened so fast.

   I had gone downstairs and got my daily slap. But I guess I did something, I don't know what, wrong. Dad grabbed the book he was reading and whacked me in the head, and I blacked out.

   I'm so tired of this. And this was only the second day.

   How can I deal with this.

   That's when I got an idea.

David's Point of View

   It was my second day back at home. It was nice to be home, but I do miss the campers. Especially Max.

   I couldn't stop worrying. The last things he said to me got me thinking.

   "You ready to go?"

   ". . .no."

   "I thought you wanted to go home?"

   ". . .no. I never want to go back home."

   He didn't want to go home. That worried me about his home life, but now I can't see how it is.
   I'm sure he's fine, though. He's basically like a teenager at the age ten. Lots of teens act like that. Rude, sassy, hating life.

   But, he sounded so sincere. So scared, sad, and broke. Which contrasts to his normal rude and insulting demeanor.

   I don't know. I'll just hope I see him next summer, see how he's doing.

   All of a sudden, my phone rang. It was Gwen.

   "Hello Gwen." I answered.

   "Hey David." She said. "Just making sure you're settled in well."

   "Oh, well, thanks Gwen." I said smiling. "I'm doing fine. How was your interview?"

   "Good, I got the job." Gwen said. "Which is surprising. All I have to do is organized shelves. This is just a job for the fall, winter, and spring."

   "What will you do in the summer?" I asked.

   "I've decided to work at camp still." She said.

   "Really!" I said excited. "Oh, that's great Gwen!"

   "I don't want you to break. You'll need help."

   "Yeah, probably." I said.

   "So, was Max last to leave yesterday?"

   "Yeah." I mumbled. "I'm worried about him."

   "Why?"

   I explained to her everything he said and why I'm worried.

   "Jeez." She said. "Well, you could be right about the whole "teen" phase. He could just be like that, you know?"

   "Yeah, maybe." I said. "Thanks Gwen."

   "No problem." She said. "Talk later."

   "Yeah." I said, then we hung up.
   I sighed and sat on my couch.

   "Gosh . . ." I muttered.