'Rain. Cold water tricking down pale skin. Luminescent green eyes. Thunder crashing down in waves. Those eyes. So much grief. So much hurt. Blond hair dripping with cold clear water. A long red coat. Soaked. A large rifle falling to the ground. Sobs.'
I woke up with a gasp, drenched in cold sweat, warm tears flooding my eyes. I had the dream again. The dream I always had. I had been having these dreams ever since we learned about the revolutionary war in school, the dreams had been happening every night. At first they were blurred and unfocused, just flashes of color. But as time went by they became more and more detailed, up until I could hear the rain pounding against the earth, feel the heavy weight of the large, soaking, blue coat, see the pain in those eyes. I had hoped that on the first night of the summer vacation they would go away, disappear, but they didn't and I got the feeling that they never would.
I ran down stairs, still in my pajamas, and slurped down a bowl of cocoa puffs, before grabbing a bright blue captain America T-shirt, a pair of faded blue jeans, and my lucky jacket from the laundry basket that was sitting on the counter. This summer I would be going to a "Special Camp" as my mother called it. For kids like me who had "special traits and ideas" that got them kicked out of all of the other camps.
What are my "special traits", you may ask. Well, let's just say that ever since I learned how to talk.., or maybe even before then I've had this ability to start talking to someone or even interacting with them and within ten minutes they'll be
Walking away
Staring at the ground, uncomfortably
Yelling at me
My mom says it's because I have a big personality, my teachers' say it's because I'm obnoxious. Even if I do just have a larger than life personality, I going to this "special camp" and if I blow this I'll have to go to work with my mom, B-O-R-I-N-G! So, I run as fast as I can out of the house and just barely catch the bus. As the large vehicle heads toward the camp I stare at my sneakers, repeatedly telling myself that I can't blow this. The bus ride seems exceptionally short for the long dragging hour that I had expected to endure.
As the bus screeches to a stop I stare up in awe at a large tall building that sits hidden in the countryside. In large bold letters it announces "The World Academy and Summer Camp". It is made of beautifully carved stone that is miraculously devoid of mold, vines, and bugs that usually plague large buildings in such a wild, natural area. As I am about to approach the amazing tower I feel a prickle on the back of my neck, someone's watching me. As I slowly turn to face the onlooker my mouth falls open. Blonde, spiky hair, bright emerald green eyes, thick eyebrows, pale skin that's now tinted pink, and a mouth that is curved into a small 'O' of surprise. I stare at the boy from my dreams.