Although this is written as a work of fiction, those who believe in ghosts will know the truth. This was an event that took place in the summer of 2013, when I was 12. You can read this for pleasure, but you must understand that I'm not writing this for you. I'm writing this for me, to keep me from going insane, thinking that I'm the only one alive who's seen her. Read at your pleasure, but remember; The woods of northern Vermont will hold her presence forever.

Journal entry #1,

July 2nd,

21:00 hours.

Today I went back to Camp Downer. I've always enjoyed coming to this camp, as its probably the only summer camp I've ever been to that hasn't either been some tribute to "God" that my mother sent me to in hopes that i'll find spirituality. Here, at Camp Downer, I feel as if i'm at home. And by home I dont mean my mothers house in Reading, I mean the place where I feel welcome. The place where people care about my well being. You see, my parents are divorced, and have been since I was three months old. I grew up with step-mothers and step-fathers, all of whom hated my other parent. I see my dad on weekends, but all he does when I see him is tell me how aweful my mother is and how she cheated him out of "our quality time". And my mother, bless her, can't even bear it when my dad comes up in conversation. All she will tell me about their divorce is that he is a cheating bastard who can't hold down a job and how she should have had me with another father. At Camp however, the counselors and the campers are friendly, if not outright caring. But i'm just running off at the mouth here.

I've been going to Camp Downer for 4 years in a row now, ever since I was 7. back in 2008 when I first went to Camp, I met my first cabin counselor, Nathan. He is an African American bodybuilder, who looks like he should be the quarter back for a professional football team, but don't mistake him for mean. He's a big teddy-bear. He has been working at camp Downer his entire life, and I've had him twice.

The cabin sistem is numbered, the higher number of the five cabins you are, the younger you are. For example, when I was seven, I was in Cabin 5. When I was 8, Cabin 4. Now, I'm in Cabin 2. I am so excited to be one of the older kids in the camp, it feels like i'm finally top dog. (Almost).

I even have Nathan again as counselor! This is going to be an awesome week, especially since I brought my best friend Eric to camp this year. The thing about Eric is he is a little attached to his home, so I'm not sure how he'll react to being sent to an overnight camp for a week, but we'll see. At least he'll have me. Eric loves to talk, he's probably one of the most loquacious people I know. Hopefully, he'll fit right in.

When we arrived at the camp, coming down the long dirt driveway, I was so excited. I was pleased to see that Eric was too. I had just got done telling him about the schedule that camp followed every year. There was a dance on the Wednesday of every week, and we could sign up for all the same activities together. They sung taps at night, and we woke up every morning at 07:00 hours to Reviole played on the camp bugle. The reason we had such military traditions at camp, I had told him, (and it was the truth) was because it used to be a boot camp for teenagers who wanted to join the military. I could think of no better place for Eric to spend his first week of summer camp.

My mom pulled into the dirt cul-de-sac style parking lot, and we all got out of the car in front of the mess hall. When we walked through the doors, we were greeted by Marc, the camp director at the time.

"Eli! Good to see you! I was getting worried you weren't going to show up this year!" I usually went to camp early in the summer, so it was a valid worry. "And this must be Eric!" He shook his hand enthusiasticly. "Glad you could make it!"

Eric, smiling from ear to ear, responded in the same excited tone. "He practically had to drag me here!"

"Sarcasm, right?" Asked Marc, giving us a sidelong glance.

"No." Said me and my mom at the same time. We chuckled at this for a minute, then got to business. Marc and my mother started to get paperwork signed, while Eric and I walked over to Cabin 2's table. We were the last ones there, fasionably late, as usual.

Eric and I introduced ourselves to all of our cabin mates, and as usual, Eric couldn't stop talking. He was just as happy as I'd hoped he would be. Soon later, my mother came over to us, and she kissed us on the forehead.

"Mom... your embarrassing me." I said, cringing.

"Oh, you'll thank me later." She said, winking.

"Yea, years later."

"Love you." She said, laughing.

"Love you too mom." I rolled my eyes, but I laughed.

Marc had walked up to the front of the room, and stood up on the staff table.

"Alright campers, listen up!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, which was a little funny because of his high-pitched voice. But those of us who had been there before knew that he had a speach prepared, and we'd best not interrupt.

"Welcome to Camp Downer! We may sound like a camp for people with extreme depression, but be ready to have the week of your life!" He went on to list the scheduled activities for the week, getting prolonged wolf calls when he brought up the dance. He told us about arts and crafts, softball (because baseball is too mainstream), swimming, basketball, and flag football. Then after he gave us our lunch schedule for the week, he gave all the tables directions to their cabins.

We walked up he hill to the boys cabins. It was through a short path up the hill through the woods. The cabins were set up with four in a row, with a staircase going up the hill in the center to Cabin 1. Cabin 2 was on the far left side of the row, with a view of the which were about 20 feet away. In between the cabin and the woods was a piece of dirt ground, with small patches of grass popping out. No one quite knew why, but grass almost never grew there. They even tried planting seeds, but they never sprouted, no matter how much we tended to them.

We entered Cabin 2, which was set up slightly differently than the other cabins. There were three bunkbeds, one against each wall. Eric took the top bunk facing the woods, and I took the top bunk opposite of him facing Cabin 3. No one took the top bunk that was against the wall, but all three bottom bunks were taken. Then, Nathan walked through the door.

"Alright boys, time for operation bed-making! The mission is self explanatory!" We jumped into action, setting up our sleeping bags and pillows. I finished first, and climbed down from my bed.

"Hey Nate!" I gave him a hug.

"Hey, E. How are ya buddy?"

"Never been better! You know how much I love camp."

"Only as much as I do."

By now, everyone had finshed setting up their sleeping area's, and we were ready to go down to the Pavillion, which was across the cul-de-sac from the mess hall. Every night and morning, the entire camp meets up in the pavillion to sing music, and watch as the counselors preform skits for the campers.

That night, we sang "Wagon Wheel" Darrius Rucker style, and watched some skits about how we should behave at camp put on by the counselers. Somehow, they made the skits funny, as they manage to do every year. After the Pavi time, we went up to the hill and gathered in a circle around the flag, holding hands, to sing taps.

"Day is done, gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;
All is well, safely rest, God is nigh."

"Fading light, dims the sight,
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.
From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night."

"Thanks and praise, for our days,
'Neath the sun, 'neath the stars, neath the sky;
As we go, this we know, God is nigh."

"While the light fades from sight,
And the stars gleaming rays softly send,
To thy hands we our souls, Lord, commend."

The flag-light turned on, illuminating the flag, and we all turned to go to bed. Back at our cabins, we put our heads on our pillows, and went to sleep. Or I did, at least.