I wanna go home.

It was only a week, even at 12 I could sense the doom ahead and would not permit a longer stay thankfully. We slept in these very tall bunk beds, which had no ladders so pulling yourself up was loads of fun. They where lumpy, and the roof of the covered wagon (yep it was a real covered wagon) leaked like a sieve. They fed us twice a day the food was cold and bland, and I fell off a horse. The pool was closed because it was a health hazard. The grass wasn't cut so our group leader ended up breaking her ankle and then my sister lit her on fire with a flaming marshmallow. To this day I don't understand why children want to go to camp