August 29, 2009
Today is the last day at Camp Rock. The day all the campers go home. But at these moments, I sit and wonder: What is home? What is family? A normal house has four bedrooms, equal chances of being a one or two story. The average family? Maybe two kids and a mom and dad, though divorces are happening more.
Mine? I'm basically on my own. I don't have a dad because he left my mom when I was young. And I guess I have a mom, if you could call her that. She's fourty-five years of age, but goes on the table often to make her look twenty. It's disgusting. Would it kill her to be an ounce... normal? Would it kill her to have one gray hair? Would it kill her to have one wrinkle in her skin?
Where do I live? Most of the time, with one of the nannies my mom hired without even bothering to interview them. Their all so fake. They don't care about me, all they care about is the loads of money my mom pays them every month.
So what and where is home to me? Camp Rock. Camp Rock is my home and it hurts to be leaving.
Tess Tyler
