Pete sat at home reading his latest comic book.
'Deep in the tomb of forgotten souls the-'
*knock, knock* Pete glanced over at the door where the interrupting noise was emitting.
"Pete?" His father called.
"Yeah." Pete replied. The door opened and his father's face peered around the corner.
"Your mother and I have something we would like to discuss with you in the living room." His father said opening the door all the way, inviting Pete to join them.
"Alright." Pete sighed.
"Take a seat." His mother said while patting a spot for him on the Brown leather sofa.
"Im going to skip straight to the point. Your mother and I understand what you are."
Pete gazed slightly curiously at his father.
"There's a camp for kids who are 'emo'. They will ma-" He was stopped by none other than the boy with the red died hair.
"I'm not emo I'm fucking goth!" Pete said. It wasn't often that he talked so his parents jumped slightly.
"Now look here Pete. They are going to make you better." He said before both he and Pete's mother grabbed said boys arms and dragged him to the car.
Pete's rage was outputted into his small cellular phone.
'Yeah, they're sending me to some fucking emo camp called troubled acres or something. 'Pete sent to Micheal, Henrietta and Firkle.
'no waaay.' Micheal texted back.
'I know it fucking sucks, anyways I'm here now and they're taking away my phone. I'm supposed to be back in two weeks.' Pete texted before all his texts went dark.