Chapter Text
Look, I didn’t want to go to summer camp.
If any of you are debating attending one, all I can say is: Don’t. Save your money or spend it somewhere better. Like the cinema, a trust fund for the children you want to have one day, or even better, your student loans.
Camp sucks. A lot. Most of the time, you get bullied by kids way cooler than you. Sometimes you break your arm. Both examples are rooted in my life. I’ve gone to many summer camps, religious ones, as well as just plain normal sport ones.
I see you, dear reader, asking yourself why I go if I hate them so much. Well, I’m a pretty standard male version of a 14-year-old, so my thoughts on such matters don’t… matter. This is often the case with minors. My mom wants me to go to summer camps, so I do. I can’t say no, or run away, I mean I could, but I just can’t, get it? Well, what about your father, you ask?
Missing in Action, out for cigarettes, dead. I mean, maybe he’s alive, how would I know? Never met the guy. No pictures of him, and my mom never talks about him either. If it wasn’t for the fact that it’s impossible, I’d believe I didn’t have a father. But human biology is my steadfast friend in such thoughts.
But Sol, (Sol is my name)(Yes, Sol like Sun)(Please help me), you ask, have you tried reasoning with your mother? I’m going to assume we’re talking about summer camps again and not my dad. So I must say, dear reader, that is a great question. I’ve tried, so I decided it wasn’t worth it this time.
I regret that, now I’m in a car with a man, and that man has thousands of eyes all over his body. This isn’t like the one-eyed or goat-legged people I see sometimes; this isn’t even like the flying horses. Because all of that can be written off as hidden brain damage, or my ADHD. Somehow. But I’ve been in this car for two days straight now, and nothing about this guy has changed. I can’t be imagining him, because someone is driving the car. Maybe I’m dreaming. I’ve pinched myself several times already, and nothing’s changed.
A person with several eyes doesn’t support my latest theory about what’s going on, though, which is human trafficking. Let me elaborate.
This is my tenth summer camp, basically an anniversary. And yet I’ve always had to pay to attend one. Not this time. That’s one suspicious strike.
Second, it was advertised as an ADHD help camp. Well, an ADHD and dyslexia camp. I don’t have dyslexia. Riddle me this: Who makes a camp for that? Why haven’t any of my teachers ever told me about it? Two strikes.
Not really part of my theory, but is calling a camp “Camp Half-Blood” racist? I wouldn’t know, I’m white.
Thirdly, this quote out of the brochure: “…it is highly forbidden to bring any electronic devices in the general vicinity of the camp. Failure to do so could lead to death.” Re-read that, let it sink in. Could lead to death. What? That’s just weird. Whose death? Why death? How death? My death? Seems you just don’t want me to contact my parents or get help. Strike number three.
Fourth, it's September, which seems late for a summer camp. I don't even know how my mother convinced my teachers to let me go. Maybe because she's a secretary at school?
Fifth and Final strike, this quote: “…When you are ready to leave, please find a roadside, throw up the gold coin provided to you, and pray to the Greek god of travel. A camp counselor will pick you up. ” I don’t even know what the first sentence means, and my mom did that, but how does the camp counselor know my address? My mom can't have told them, as there isn't any means of contact on the brochure.
Also, the camp is close to Manhattan, where a bunch of dangerous storms happened recently, and the camp isn’t anywhere on the internet, and we left California two days ago, but the driver hasn’t slept. Unless he slept when I slept, but I would’ve noticed… right?
Well, it’s too late to run, so I guess this is documentation of me being kidnapped. The guy with several eyes just snapped his finger at me and pointed at a hill with a pine tree on top, guess we’ve arrived.
Wish me luck.
- Sol John