The Camp

Chapter 8

By the time I had woken up, it was dark outside, and the steady hum of crickets filled the quiet lodge. I blinked my eyes several times at the wooden boards above me before finally turning my head to the side. Everyone else in the room seemed thoroughly asleep and even Emily was dozing with a soft puff of air that signalled she was alive every few seconds. Lying there and listening to the tranquillity of the night I realised that I was no longer tired and that I was in fact quite bored. I heaved myself up into a sitting position and rubbed my eyes, a small flurry of sleep residue littered my bed and I brushed it away with a soft hand. It felt strange being alone like this in the night, usually I'd have Chowder to keep me company, with his wisps of hair curled up at the bottom of my bed. Again my hand reached out in an attempt to find him, to touch his comforting body and hear the gentle purr that he made but nothing happened and I was brought back to the solitary world of my new life; dragged from my home and almost completely alone. The ghosts of my previous life still liked to haunt me, I'd see Ma and my cat and even sometimes Grandmother in my dreams as I slept. I wouldn't say that I was home sick because I hardly felt like I'd left at all and more than once found myself wondering if it was all some chicken-induced dream. Yet sitting in the dark beneath the wooden panels of the top bunk I felt just how real the whole experience was.

Bored out of my mind I decided to play with the ladder that led to Emily's bed, there was a small splinter of wood that protruded from the side and I was determined to remove it. At first, I grabbed it and tried to tug it off but when I couldn't get the correct grip I gave up and tried another way: twisting. My fingers twirled the spike, round and round, waiting for it to pop right off of the ladder but all that did was lodge a piece of wood into my fingertip. I withdrew my hand in a sharp breath, staring in annoyance at the small brown pinprick. With the wood stuck in my finger I spent five minutes trying to squeeze, yank and suck it out. Much to my annoyance it prevailed, and I ended up trying to ignore it and again picking at the splinter sticking out from the edge of the ladder. After many tedious minutes I managed to rip the entire side piece off of the side of the ladder and found myself burying it beneath my bed in the fold of my dress. As my hands ran over the silky fabric I was transported far away, prancing about with Ma and Chowder and not being trapped until I die.

Bzzz...The camera was zooming in and I was just as quick to withdraw my hand from beneath my bed and slide my legs sideways. No one else was awake, it was just me and in a strange euphoric way I liked being able to watch the others sleep, it satisfied me that no one had been taken yet. That was another thing that was constantly at the back of my mind, the threat that I could be awake when they took the losing girls to their deaths. Someone stirred as I slipped my foot into a fresh boot, I looked up from my hunched position to see someone roll over and go back to sleep. Taking a steady and calm breath I tied my other shoe and checked that my hair was dry. If it was still damp from my shower, then it could make me ill and therefore hinder my efforts in the competition. The string that had held it back for the obstacle course was wrapped round my wrist where I had decided would be the best place if I needed to use it. I don't really know what was going through my head when I stole it, there was barely enough string to fit round my hair twice and here I was thinking of how I could use it to burden one of my camp mates. Unconsciously I gripped the string bracelet, it tugged against my skin and helped to clear my thoughts a little more. Calm and collected.

Just like the previous day I stood up and headed for the door, being careful over which floorboards I chose to step on and where I placed my foot. One of the floorboards, being the traitor it was, gave out the loudest creak possible and my head snapped back to check for signs of movement. When the coast was clear, and the last sign of movement had fallen still I had a free sprint for the door. My heavy boots thudded gently against the floor as I darted towards freedom, laying a hand on the cold metal handle I depressed it and escaped into the fresh nights air beyond, closing it behind me with a click of the latch.