Camp Withdrawal Symptoms

January 22, 2012
By MJCFilgersville BRONZE, Westborough, Massachusetts
MJCFilgersville BRONZE, Westborough, Massachusetts
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

My sister, my Dad, and I went to Craigsville Beach in Barnstable. It was violently windy and overcast. With this abysmal weather, I realized that I had been in a really negative mood. I asked myself why. What could be bothering me this much? I puzzled as to why I was so downcast but found no answer and decided to make the best of my most likely only trip to the beach this summer.

After our brief outing, we packed up and headed towards camp to pick my sister up for her time off. We stopped at the boys’ camp on the way so I could drop off my NHS form to be signed. As we pulled up the driveway, I saw that CAP two was still going on as kids were scattered around camp on the basketball courts and GAGA arena. Mom’s white wagon scooted up the hill and we parked perpendicular to the rock wall by the office. I passed by an unidentifiable group of girls to enter the refreshing air-conditioned atmosphere of the office. As I creaked the door open, I craned my neck to the Arts and Crafts Center to see if Seth, the art director, was present. But the lights were on and nobody home. When I entered the office, I crept in to be greeted by the OD or a resource staff member but found neither as the office was vacant. I sighed and left my record on the desk and took one last look at the office, breathing in the familiar aromas. I exhaled and my shoulders sank as I pulled the door open and left the office.

I glanced over at the wagon, my sister BBM-ing her friend, and my father out of view. I turned back to the Arts and Crafts Center and saw Seth carrying a mass of papers and posters out of the storage room.


She looked up and her supplies fell to the floor. She sprinted to where I stood on the stairs and both of our faces lit up when we saw each other in the flesh and hugged.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” she smiled.

“I had to drop something off for G for school and we’re picking my sister up for time-off. How’s camp?” I asked.

“It’s good. But I miss you. Camp misses you,” she replied.

“I miss camp. I want to be here,” I sighed.

“Mmm. I lit’rally mailed you a letter today. There’s a picture that I drew for you. I know you’ll like it.”

“Great! Yeah we definitely need to keep writing to each other,” I agreed.

“Yeah, I’ll write to you from London.”

“Good…well my Dad and sister are waiting in the car so I should go. But I wish I could stay.”

“Me too. But goodbye,” she said.

“Bye,” I said.

We hugged one last time and I returned to the car, smiling from this visit but now saddened as I had to go. I had the answer to my question:

I miss camp.

The author's comments:
I wrote this piece two summers ago after being away from camp for a while and not realizing how it was affecting me.

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