Camping

Cast Of Characters:

Sharon Daniels ---- DEAD

Diana Bates

Brooklyn Mance

Madi Smith

Wes Wells

Paul Charles ---- DEAD

John Isaac ---- DEAD

Xander Lopez ---- DEAD

Ian Harmon

Mrs. Helen Bartleby ---- DEAD

Erin Reihnheart ---- DEAD

Aaron Cox ---- DEAD

Kristy Dane

Danny Bates

Marissa Lee ---- DEAD

Kaine Sanderson

Jake Williams ---- DEAD

Figg Newton ---- DEAD

Collen Knight

Melissa Stone

Chapter 9- Collapse

The first chirping bird of dawn woke the sleeping beauty Melissa; her first word that morning?

"SHIT!" she yelled, trying desperately to pull on her shirt and jeans at the same time while fixing her hair. You see, Melissa accidentally had fallen asleep in her new boyfriend's tent- normally that wouldn't be too bad, except for the fact that her new best friend had liked him first.

Melissa crept from the tent to find no one in the camp. She quickly went into her tent to find Diana and Brooklyn still asleep. But what was that smell? It was definitely coming from the outside, but she was too tired to find out.

________________________________________________

I woke in my tent alone. Melissa must have left earlier that morning. I was a heavy sleeper so I must have not noticed. I was a solitary person- I really didn't care for people much, but Melissa was different. Ah… Melissa. We were both intellectuals. We had a desire to learn everything there is to learn.

But we had a passion for wine tasting as well. As young kids, we had both been given small amounts of wine from our parents. Any alcohol tasted sweet to me, even if it was a warm beer.

I wanted to go home, to do my favorite things, play poker (I'm a gambler), play chess, read and sleep. But right now I just want to get out of this hellhole.

________________________________________________

I want to go home. I'm not afraid to say it. I hate it here. Who wouldn't hate having your friends killed off by a psychotic serial killer?

Home, in my own bed. My room was so solitary- I loved just watching football every Sunday in there- my favorite team was the Patriots. I buried myself under the covers and for a few hours I was free of the outside world, truly alone like I loved to be. I didn't care for the popularity I had- I'd throw it all away if asked once.

The only thing I loved more than football was math. Weird, I know. Popular kids like me, the amazing Wes Wells, aren't supposed to like math. But it's awesome. I love numbers.

________________________________________________

I sat in my tent thinking with Diana, Madi and Melissa. This was crazy. I want OUT!

I want to go back to my old life. As a dork. Sitting in the library reading any fantasy book I could get my hands on. But although fantasy was my favorite genre, Agatha Christie was my favorite author.

I could learn how to solve this from her clues. Who knew Agatha Christie would come in handy in my real, boring life?

Well, actually my life was far from boring. My brother, Jimmy Mance survived a mass murder on Harper's Island, our old home, 10 years ago. Me and my parents were on vacation at the time. That's when he met his wife Abby- they have a 7 year old daughter, Trish, and a 5 year old son, Charlie. After that incident we left the island and moved here to Portland, Maine, across the country. Jimmy & Abby live in Boston.

Jimmy was only one of four survivors. I guess us Mance's were just plain unlucky. Hopefully I could stay strong and live for him, Abby and the kids, as well as my parents. If only I could see them one more time…

________________________________________________

My life at home was actually pretty good. I look forward to getting back to it. My black hair was in a pony tail going down to my waste at the moment. My olive skin complimented the style. My blue eyes were pale from stress. And hunger.

Oh, John… Why did this dude have to decapitate him? I miss him so much already…

I had resorted to a knife, and a towel. My wrists swelled from scars. No one had noticed yet. I thought the person who had attacked me was doing me a favor.

Life sucks sometimes. But I guess I have to live it.

From the journal of Diana Bates

________________________________________________

I was a dork. And now looking back, I realize that maybe it wasn't so bad. I was fully prepared to die- but I wasn't going down without a fight. I was decently built- I could take most of the guys here in a fight.

I stayed with my close-knit group of friends back at PHS. That didn't stop my eyes from wandering to the bodies of girls outside the click.

Ah, Kaine. I love Kaine. We will get married someday; I swear it.

But I'm a scientist, and inventor. She's an actress, a drama queen.

Never going to happen. I'm Ian, the nerd. She's Kaine. The princess.

________________________________________________

Depression. It hit me well before this. I keep telling myself Madi, get a hold of yourself, but it's too late to get out.

My dad was a hitter. He and my mom never got along too well. She would come out of their bedroom with bruises, the size of baseballs, crying.

Wasn't long until he started hitting me, too. I covered my bruises with make up. I couldn't bring myself to tell a soul; not even Sharon.

That's when I discovered writing and hair dye. I started dying my hair blonde and curling it to make myself feel beautiful. My mother also got me a journal to keep my thoughts recorded in. I developed a passion for writing. I wrote poems, songs and stories.

Then came high school, and with high school I became a cheerleader. And with cheer leading, I became a slut. I would bang almost any guy I could get.

It was hard, battling anorexia. I didn't eat much at all- it made me feel that much prettier.

________________________________________________

A scream shot in the air of the cool evening. The students gathered in the center of their camp. Kristy had screamed- the body of Paul had been discovered.

Dried blood was all over him- there was a huge dent in his head.

"Oh god…" said Danny, throwing up. Paul was one of Danny's few friends.

"I'll do it…" said Collen, hesitantly carrying Paul's body over with the others.

"How many victims does that make…" said a cold, emotionless Kaine, counting on her fingers. "Wow. 10. Half of us. Holy shit."

Brooklyn's eyes grew suddenly wider. Another surprising, pessimistic statistic. Add it to the list. Another to the body count. Another stage of depression, grief, anger and emotion.

________________________________________________

Kristy Dane sat out hours longer than anyone else. Worried was the least you could say to describe her current stage of emotion.

Terrified. Terrified was exactly the word. She had succumbed to grief.

Kristy foolishly stood up and shook herself off. She took a walk down the path into the woods. Creeping footsteps anyone else could have heard were approaching her from behind. They pulled out the revolver and approached.

She had not a second to scream in terror before a shot fired and she choked for a second. The bullet lodged in her gut, she was very well alive, but barely conscious enough to begin to hobble back to the camp, confused and afraid.

The bullet made her cough up blood. Red, scarlet, deep colored blood. She was choking on her own blood now.

The almost dead Kristy had made it back to camp to find Kaine sitting in camp. Kaine shrieked. "OH MY GOD! GET OUT HERE!" she screamed, and everyone gathered around. But it was much too late. Coughing up blood, Kristy pointed around at them, let out a tear, and then collapsed.

That was close, thought a serial killer in the crowd, expressing worry, but inwardly feeling delighted.

________________________________________________