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My Experience At Summer Camp

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“You and your sister are soooooo different,” my friend, who I had met at summer camp a couple years before, informed me as we stood beneath the blistering sun, our necks slicked with sweat and our throats parched. Approximately two second before Julia spoke those words, my sister had attempted to do a cartwheel in front of the whole camp, failed miserably, and screamed out in amusement. The episode was followed first by a simultaneous gasp from the mouths of 200 campers, in fear of her injury, and then a fit of booming laughter when she stuck up her thumb and smiled. While everyone stood around watching her, I pouted on the sidelines of the common field and shook my head in shame. Of course I wanted to be in on the fun, laughing and jumping and doing gymnastics with the rest of West Mountain Camp’s population. But instead, I felt forced into a reputation created for me so many years ago as the quiet, calm and mature twin sister of the rambunctious and outgoing Chloe Blumberg. Always sitting on the sidelines, reading my books, doling out my wise words and keeping my sister in check. The funny thing is, I can’t remember it ever being different. I was always told by my mom, dad and grandparents that I was the quiet and mature one of the duo, and that I didn’t need to get attention in the way Chloe always did because my intelligence was enough to give me the recognition I needed. Chloe was just always so loud and clumsy that by default I was destined to be the other one, more in

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