I was laying in a bed, a real bed, not the standard-issued cot we had in our cabins. I had just awoken, a miserable, snotty wretch. What I’d give to be anywhere else. Back at school even. Away from all this crap. Yet here I was, still at Camp Prison-Shit. How long had I been out, I did not know.
“What am I doing here?” Why was I still at camp, I wanted to know. Continue reading
If you were to ask me to pinpoint the moment I realized camp was hell, I couldn’t say. From the outset, I knew this camp would be different. It was for city kids who’d never really experienced the outdoors before. I’d seen an ad for the camp on TV and thought it looked like immense fun, but what did I know? The commercial depicted scenes of gleeful children splashing around in a lake, and taking part in potato sack races and sing-alongs around the campfire. What lucky kids, I had thought at the time. Continue reading
Monica's Tangled Web 