Creative Writing: Camp Potlatch

I look up towards the sky and see dark clouds rolling across the sky towards the west where the sounds of gunfire could be heard off in the distance. I look around the cramped bunkhouse and see the other prisoners. The bunkhouse is cold and smells of rotting flesh and human waste. The beds are made of cheap wood and thin cloth with some hay for a mattress. The guards walk in and start telling people to wake up. I slowly get out of my wooden bed out onto the muddy floor. My feet feel cold as they touch onto the earth below. My hands start to hurt from the cuts covering them when I try and get up. I see a man refusing to get out of his bunk near the entrance of the bunkhouse. The guards saw him refusing to follow their orders and dragged

Our refreshing day at the lake was now a day of oppressing heat. Despite the more than warm weather, I had not exercised at all that day. In an attempt to get in a little of the daily exercise recommended by my soccer coach, I swam to the neighboring buoy. The buoy was about 50 feet away from the boat dock. The swim was not far, but it was far enough to make me breathe hard. It also made Katrina, Madison, Lauren, and Olivia, who had followed, breathe hard. Behind them, closing in on the buoy, were my mom and two younger brothers slowly paddling on their floats. About 6 feet from our destination we drifted upon a shoal. The shoal was rocky, muddy, and algae-ridden. When the filthy red and green mixture of algae and mud squished between my toes I cringed and refused to lower my legs

The first place we camped was right along the river and on an open field, that is where we left the van with the rest of the food and gear that we didn’t need. We played spoons and made our MRE type food. This was the nicest camp site that we were at it had a canopy to sit under and porta potties, But it was not the most Beautiful. The second day we went up into the mountains which was difficult for everyone except our guides they lived in Colorado and we all lived in Texas where the air is thicker and there is more humidity. We stopped to take a break on a ledge that overlooked the area we just hiked through, we could see for miles and my only regret was not taking a picture of it. The second camp site was nothing special, but the next day we camped near a place that had multiple mountain caves we went and

Simon woke to a screeching in his ears. It was all he had been able to hear for the past week. His head ached as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He yawned, eyed his now useless alarm clock, and realized he had over-slept. Rushing to get dressed, he read the notes his mother had left for him--reminding him to eat breakfast and empty out the dishwasher--before grabbing a poptart and running to school. As he ran, he noticed he was getting a call from Diana. He rejected it and continued his path to Greenburrow High School.

It was a cold October day. The closer I came to the fogged up windows, the faster my heart would beat making my breath quicken. I step into the locker room to prepare for the pool. As soon as I step out the humidity hit me. I’ve been scoping out the competition for a few hours now and they are good. I say to my friend” I sure hope that I don’t have to race against them” . Then my name gets called and what do you know I have to go against a state winner and 6 more excellent swimmers. Suddenly my number gets called.”Swimmer's step up!”.My heart racing. Adrenalin pumping. Me trying to calm down so I can actually go. “ Swimmers ready?”...The whistle blows.

"No! Mom, STOP! I don't want to do it!" I bawled. My face flushed red , tears streaming down my face as I was backed into a corner. There was no escape, I lunged forward with a death grip around my mother's leg. Burying my face into her jeans, I pleaded one last time, to no avail. Still clinging on to her leg, she drags me over the cruel, tile floor. "Take him," she said nonchalantly, "He'll be fine." With an exasperated look she hands me over to my new swim instructor. I was still hyperventilating, overcome with fear of the water. "Let's wash away those tears!" my teacher said with a smile. Before I knew it, I was submerged beneath the water. It was only for a moment but it seemed like an eternity. Time froze, all the noise

The first time I went to camp. My grandpap has a hunting camp in Clearfield and took my cousins and I up there for the weekend. It was the funniest weekend I’ve ever had, we went went turkey hunting one day, and fishing the next day. It was a good guys weekend. Every night we would have a fire and cook on it. We would cook wings, pizza, steak and fish. The fish was my favorite. The worst thing about camp is the beds are in the same room so when we go to bed I could hear my pap snoring so I didn’t get that much sleep. Every morning I would wake up too a very good smell of breakfast cooking and I would go out and eat and wait till everyone got up. Then when everyone was up we would go in the woods and squarl hunt until lunch time. When it was

Timmy’s stomach was aching from the food he just scarfed down from his annual Thanksgiving dinner at his Grandma Gill’s mansion in Springfield, Illinois. He was trudging over to the closest couch for a time to give his body a rest from the scrumptious food. All he could think about was getting away from his hideous family to go play video games in his room.

It was a typical day in the Tatafu household, with my sister and I participating in a match of our amateur version of basketball, my mother passionately gardening and the rest of the house basically lounging around. I remember distinctly that the day was the 2nd of February, also known as the aggravating first day of school. For odd some reason, I had sensed an unsettling feeling that blended in with our borderline ‘couldn’t-be-bothered’ behavior as we foregathered in for dinner. The silence that usually accompanied our dinners had transitioned into a newfound awkward hush, and I knew immediately that something just wasn’t right. I had heard the gossip slipping through the occasional conversations within the disorderly family meetings, however I just assumed they were rumours. They had to be. “She lost the baby.” I introduce to you, ladies and gentlemen, the day my world disintegrated.

After meticulously setting up our tent to perfection, we had time to reflect on how quickly our grimaces had just turned to grins. Right there and then we agreed, as a group, to help anyone we found that needed it in this place. No matter what the situation was. This was a pretty good first-impression to say the least. Now that we were settled, it was time to start our exploration! On the first day, the actual Forest Venue does not open until 4:00pm, giving us time to check out as much of the vast campsite as we could beforehand. We observed the layout, and how each row of tents was identified by a street name. Who were these tents made up of? Would these strangers get along? Were they anything like me? It was a little intimidating to think

It was a stormy night in august on the year 1880. There was lightning shooting across the sky lighting up the night like a flickering light bulb. There was a man walking across the Nevada landscape, in his long black trench coat soaked to the bone with his black cowboy hat covering his face just enough to cover his eyes. His colt 45 revolver glimmering on his hip from the lightning. He was approaching a lone house out in the Distance. It was a small 2 room log cabin with a man, his wife, and their 6 year old son Inside. The cabin was a dark mossy brown wood with a rock chimney and mud packed in the cracks to keep the rain and wind out. It had one window near the door. As the man approached the cabin his pace never faltered he was heading straight

Amir and I went to a park one day that harbored a pomegranate tree. Amir said that he was going to read me a story. I was a while since Amir and I had spent time together. Since the incident I’ve been trying to spend time with Amir and ever since I felt like he was avoiding me. Every time I asked Amir agha if he wanted to come with me to the markets he would always say that he was tired or busy, I guessed that today Amir agha was feeling a bit better which made me excited. Excited that we could have fun, like old times.

Every night, Chris came over, and we went down to my basement until the moon replaced the sun, and the singing of frogs and crickets were coming in through the window well. We stayed up late at night and had to drag ourselves to band camp at 7:30 a.m. I was the most miserable, and the most happy I had ever been.

Sitting touching the familiar worn benches beneath me, looking out seeing the familiar view, and getting that familiar feeling, I was home. Hume Lake Cristian Camps with its tranquil water stretching out, and the forest behind it stretching even farther. The silowate of the trees framing the lake, the view everyone longs for all summer was right there before us, welcoming us.

The morning winter sky was painted with an overcast of dark, gray, clouds. The air stung my cheeks with the sharp coldness as I stepped out of the dark gray car and walked away from the pleasant heat that was circulating inside. I waved goodbye to my friend’s mom that gave us the ride, and ] pushed the car door closed. I sighed tiredly began to walk to the new Milpitas High School pool for my swim meet with my best friend, and also crush, Kaleb. We entered the pool deck that smelled strongly of chlorine and was full of frustrated coaches, nervous competitors, and families searching for someplace to sit that was warm. The pool created a big vapor cloud of the warm chlorine water vapor that was battling the cold misty air. It was my first swim meet that was in the 12 year old to 17 year old division and I was the youngest swimmer in all of my heats, or groups. I