Camp Suicide (a.i.)

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What's the first thing you think of when you hear the words 'summer camp'?

I normally think of really awful food, people hiking or whatever and singing horrible camp songs, and lots of bugs.
Since I'd never gone, that was probably the reason for my stereotypical ideas.
So when my father told me two weeks before the school year was over, "You're going to summer camp this summer!", I wanted to die.

Well, that's nothing new. I'm not asking anyone to feel bad for me or anything. That's just the way it is. I've always been a little over dramatic, and every since my mom died....
Well, we can talk about my problems later.

"This is a great opportunity, Astrid," my father said, basically pleading with me. I told him I refused to go, and he was a little bothered by how difficult I was being, I guess.

"I just don't want you to be all alone this summer," he then said to me, which made me roll my eyes. I don't think he understands that unlike Luke Hemmings, I DO want to be wasting my time alone.

"I wouldn't be alone," I argued. "I'd have you, and John, and Michelle." I choked a little on the last name. It was actually accidental, but I thought it was hilarious. My father didn't.

Michelle was my father's girlfriend. My parents got a divorce when I was 8, and a few months ago, he met Michelle. John was Michelle's 6-year-old son, and he was a cutie patootie. Even though I hated Michelle, I'd always jump at any chance to babysit John because he was the sweetest, funniest, and cutest little kid you'd ever meet.

My father's face turned from annoyed to embarrassed. "Actually, Astrid..." his voice trailed off.

I raised my eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed. "Well, one of the reasons why I decided to send you to camp was because..."

It was really pissing me off how he kept trailing off and not telling me. I guess that was showing on my face, because all in a rush, he said, "Michelle, John, and I are going to Florida for basically the whole summer, and we can't afford to bring you too!"

I can't even begin to describe how offended I was. I wanted to yell at him, or throw something, but instead I calmly got up and locked myself in my bedroom.

Michelle and John weren't even a part of our family. Michelle and my father weren't married or anything, and I was his daughter!

The only logical explanation I could come up with was I reminded my father of my mother too much, so he wanted to leave with his new family for a while so he could get over her death. People always told me I was a spitting image of my mom, with my dark brown hair that fell in bouncy waves down my back, and grey eyes that apparently sparkled when I smiled.

I didn't smile much.

About an hour after the awful conversation happened, my father came up to my room and apologized. He probably said some other stuff too, but I was trying to tune him out.
He gave me a brochure about the camp, and it seemed okay. What really made my anxiety levels hit the roof was that it was a coed camp. I've always cared what others thought about me, but especially boys. I'd never been to a camp before! What if I did something really stupid and embarrassing in front of a really cute boy?

I decided that when I got there, I wasn't going to participate.

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Finally, the last day of school came, and my homeroom teacher was forcing us all to tell what we were doing over the summer.

Rebeca, the only person that I could kind of tolerate in homeroom, was explaining to the class how she was going to New York City for her birthday, and her family was taking her to a Broadway musical of some sort, and she was also going shopping and could spend as much money as she wanted. I swear to God, people who don't have siblings are the most spoiled people in the world.

"What about you, Astrid?" Ms. Parker asked me since I was sitting next to Rebeca. I pulled my sweatshirt sleeves over my hands and bunched them up like paws. I hated being the center of attention.

"I'm going to a summer camp," I said quietly, which was the exact opposite of Rebeca's confident alto. "Can you repeat that?" Ms Parker asked, leaning closer to me.

"She said she's going to a camp!" Rebeca said for me. Ms. Parker just nodded. It was obvious she didn't care.
I didn't listen to anybody else.

The bell finally rang at the end of ninth period, and if I had to be in that institution any longer, I probably would of pulled a Jeremy and shot myself in front of everyone.

Sorry.

Okay anyway, I had to clean out my locker right then and there because I had decided to ditch homeroom and read fan fiction in the bathroom the day we did it, so as everyone was leaving, I had to stay behind and clean. It only took a little bit, but almost everyone had left.

I then missed my bus, and I think my bus driver wanted to start his vacation as soon as possible, because he didn't stop for me or anything.

I texted my father and asked if he could come pick me up, and since he was at work, he told me he'd be there in about an hour. SPECTACULAR.

An hour passed, and finally, I was on my way home. I was sweating up a storm in my black sweatshirt and jeans, but I couldn't change until I was at home, in my bedroom, safe from Michelle.

My father knew why I never wore shorts or short sleeves. I didn't want Michelle to know, because it was none of her business. She's not a part of our family, even though my father acts like she is.

It was a scorcher today, so I changed into a pink tank top and shorts. I looked into my mirror to try to fix my hair, and then I realized how great of an idea it was to wear jeans and a sweatshirt.

Some of them were almost compeltly faded. Most of them weren't, though, and some where fresh.

If you're having an issue with this vagueness, I'm really sorry. I don't really want to come out and say it, but I guess I have to.

Yeah. I cut. There, now you know.

I was putting my hair into a french braid when I realized how I was going to make it through 2 weeks of camp
in the hot weather wearing jeans and sweatshirts.

A.N: Hey guys. So I had this idea for a new story, and this is what it is basically. I hope y'all like it, and I think I might be working on this one more than Fanboy. Whoops.
Well anyway, thanks for reading! don't forget to vote if you liked it :)
stay perfect!