I was expecting them to start panicking, or at least cry out for help, but they were as calm as ever. Even Caroline just shrugged and sat down on the canoe, still clutching her oar. "That's what she gets for being so prissy."

I couldn't believe my ears. I stared at Natalie, thinking surely that would cause her to show some emotion, but she just focused on rowing, staring intently at her oars. Suddenly, I felt a need to panic, more than I actually felt panicked. Usually, I was the level-headed one, but when everyone else was having such a complete lack of reaction, I felt it was on me to make a big deal out of it.

"Amber's under the lake!" I yelled. "She could be drowning!" That was the third time someone had been pushed or pulled underwater, including myself. Actually, more times if you included the times I saw someone willingly stay underwater. Did this camp want to drown themselves?

"Relax. She'll be fine," said Caroline, swinging one of her legs over the other. "Maybe it'll get the mud she's complaining off her."

"But... but..." I spluttered. "She can swim?"

"Oh, not very well," admitted Caroline. "She squeals even when she's in shallow water. If you thought your brother was bad... but she'll be fine."

"How can you be sure?" I demanded. "You're the one who pushed her under! And you don't even seem to care."

Caroline just smiled lazily at me. "Oh, she'll have a harder time reaching the surface than Natalie or me, but not that hard. She'll be up in a few minutes. Maybe even less."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I really did drop my oars, into the canoe, and peered over the sides of the boat, calling down to the lake. "Amber! Amber?"

"Do you really think she can hear you?" I was surprised to hear Natalie speak, in her usual sarcastic tone. At least that was progress.

"Oh, yeah, I guess not," I admitted. "I should call for help instead."

"Don't!" Caroline pleaded. "I'd get into so much trouble with Celeste."

"I think Amber is in a bit more trouble," I quipped.

At that moment, she resurfaced, spluttering and blinking water out of her eyes. I gasped in surprise and relief, but Caroline didn't even blink. Amber hoisted herself onto the canoe, and Caroline had the decency to help her on. She brushed wet hair out of her eyes and glared daggers at Caroline.

"How could you do that?" she demanded, giving her a hard shove that almost sent her flying off the canoe as well.

"Chill, Amber," smirked Caroline. "I was just having some fun."

"I didn't think it was funny!" Amber insisted. I had to admit, though, she didn't look scared or panicked at all from being underwater, just annoyed. When that happened to me, even I had felt scared initially before my anger. She wasn't even rubbing her head where she had been struck by the oar.

"Neither did I," I agreed. "You could have really hurt her."

"I just taught her a lesson," said Caroline nonchalantly. "It wouldn't really hurt her." What did she mean by that? "Maybe now, she'll know to stop being such a—"

She was caught off as Amber gave her a hard push, actually sending her backwards into the water this time. Amber had to push her for a long time, since Caroline tried fighting back. She eventually managed to kick her in the stomach and send her into the lake. I gasped in shock while Natalie giggled. I was surprised to hear her make any sound.

"When they argue, it's always fun to watch," Natalie whispered to me as Caroline resurfaced moments afterwards. I was getting so used to this that I didn't even react much. "I've seen them get into fights at this camp more times than I can count. It almost makes me not want to leave."

Why didn't she leave? I wondered. And why were they so sure that they couldn't be hurt or injured? Did they really believe they were indestructible, as long as they were trapped at this camp?

Trapped... that word made its way into my thoughts. Were they really trapped here?

"Adelaide, I want to get out of here."

I stared at my little brother. He looked so terrified, I almost felt bad for him.

"What is it, Dave?" I knelt down to his level. "Are those boys picking on you again?"

David shook his head. "No. They were making fun of me during canoeing, but that's nothing new. They pushed someone else into the lake instead of me, so I guess that's a plus."

"Huh? Someone else?" I gaped in shock.

"Well, not really pushed," David admitted. "More like they jumped in willingly. They said they were sick of canoeing and wanted to cool down."

"Well, that's not so bad," I said.

"But they didn't come up," said David, beginning to shake. "I was starting to get scared, being the only one left on my canoe. But I was too much of a coward to jump in after them. I thought they had drowned when they came up again and started laughing at me. I realized even not pushing me into the lake was their way of making fun of me."

"They clearly haven't learned anything from me pulling one of them underwater," I said, shaking my head.

"I couldn't care less that they made fun of me," admitted David. "But I'm freaked out by all the weird things going on. I want to leave. Please can we leave, Adelaide?"

He started gripping onto the front of my shirt. I gently pried him off.

"We can't just leave, David," I told him. "We've barely been here. We can't just give up now. What would Mom and Dad say? Besides, if you left, you'd just be proving those jerks right. That you really are a wimp." I was trying to convince myself as much as him. I'd never admit it, but I wanted to leave as well.

"I guess," muttered David.

"Besides, even if we did try to leave, how could we?" I added. "We'd have no idea where to go or how to get home."

That stumped him for a while. "We could escape through the woods," he suggested. "I'd even risk another encounter with a snake if I could escape from this place."

"And then what?" I asked. "We'd be in the middle of nowhere. You remember how long the bus ride was. And I doubt there'd be another bus waiting for us."

David didn't like me being so logical. He pouted and kicked at rocks on the ground with his sneaker. "I wish Mom and Dad had taken me with them."

"So do I," I teased. "I wouldn't have to waste so much time getting you out of trouble." His mention of Mom and Dad gave me an idea. "Hey, I know, David! Why don't we talk to Mom and Dad?"

"Huh?" David snapped his head up. "But I thought you said we couldn't leave."

"Not leaving, stupid," I said. "Let's write to them! Why didn't we think of that before?" I felt like an idiot now. To be fair, the counselors had never mentioned anything about writing to our parents or where to send the letters. "Now that I think about it, why haven't they called or written to us? They promised they would."

"They forgot all about us," David complained.

"Of course they didn't," I assured. "Maybe it just takes some time for the letters to arrive, or to find their way here. But we can write to them. We can tell them all about the... uh... fun time we're having here, and you can tell them about all your troubles. Maybe it'll make you feel better."

David's eyes lit up. "And maybe they'll take me back home!"

"I didn't say that," I said, but he was too excited by the idea.

"Just one problem," he said. "Where's the post box?"

"Uh... let's ask Celeste," I suggested. "I'm sure plenty of the campers write home."

We headed to the front office in front of the mess hall. I didn't know about calling it an office. It was so rundown, the cabins looked more elegant. The door creaked and looked like it was made from real trees, and the roof tilted forwards as if about to come off.

I knocked on the door. It opened as Celeste exited. "Adelaide! What brings you here?"

"My brother wanted to ask for something," I said. David shook his head, willing for me to speak. I sighed. "He wants to write to our parents. He's feeling a bit homesick."

A strange look crossed Celeste's face. It looked melancholy, almost saddened. Then it quickly disappeared. "Ah, of course. Not unusual to get homesick. Plenty of campers feel that way, even after all this time. Or maybe especially."

What did that mean? I thought.

"It's very simple," said Celeste. "Just submit your letters in the postbox behind the mess hall."

"There's a postbox behind the mess hall?" I asked. I hadn't ever been there.

"It's where we send all of our letters," said Celeste. "Not like we need to send many..." That's odd. Didn't she say a lot of the campers got homesick?

David and I returned to our cabins to write our letters. Dear Mom and Dad, I wrote. Sorry I haven't written before. I was really looking forward to Camp Starlight. I thought it'd be a lot of fun. And for the most part, it has been. That was a bit of a lie. I wouldn't even call half of it fun. But a lot of really weird stuff has been going on.

I tried not to sound too scared or panicked while writing. I didn't beg for them to pick me up and take me home, as David probably did in his letter. I ended telling them I was fine and just a bit weirded out, but I'd take care of David. I couldn't resist bragging about my heroic deeds and the times I had saved him. I didn't tell them about the campfire story. I didn't think a silly story like that mattered, or maybe I was trying to convince myself of that. Mom and Dad probably wouldn't think it was anything to worry about, anyway. Besides, David probably wrote all about it in his letter.

After folding up the first letter, I decided to write a letter to Jade as well. I had promised to write to her every day, but I had completely forgotten until now. I told her how I had saved my brother from the snake, and from nearly drowning, and the jerk boys at camp and other girls in my cabin. I teased her about how she'd probably hate the place and be crying and begging to go home even more than David.

But unlike my parents, I also told her about the weird things going on at camp. I knew my parents wouldn't believe me, not in a million years. They'd think it was another one of my dumb jokes or my overactive imagination. But my best friend might believe me. I told her how everyone at camp seemed to be incapable of getting hurt or injured, how the girls in my bunk had tried to get me to leave after curfew and force me to look up at the sky, and then pretended tomorrow that nothing had happened.

"I bet you spent your entire letter begging them to take you home," I teased as we headed behind the mess hall.

"Did not!" David protested. But I could see the relief in his eyes. I could tell he was hoping for just that.

It looked so different behind the mess hall, I wondered if we had stepped into a new side of the camp. It looked so much worse, like a polluted road. Ugly debris and dead grass littered the ground, and tree stumps stuck out amongst the fungi. It took us a while to find what we were looking for.

The post box was almost consumed by moss. I brushed a bit of it off the front, wincing as it stuck to my palm. It looked like it hadn't been used in years.

"I can see why people don't send letters much," David quipped.

The front creaked as I opened it. Inside, I saw several old letters, almost rotting, as if they had been there for years. They didn't look like they were in any condition to read, let alone send. I didn't know about sending our letter now. Would it get lost among the others? Did that mean none of the letters got sent?

I closed my eyes and reached my hand in, yanking the letters out. I dropped them to the ground, wiping my hand on my shorts. I heard David gagging. I glanced back inside the postbox and saw one letter left. It actually looked brand new and legible. Actually, it wasn't a letter. It looked more like a newspaper.

My curiosity overtook me. I reached inside and pulled it out, smoothing out the white and black paper. It felt like it had been taken straight out of the daily newspaper back in town. It was such a sharp contrast to the rotted pile of old letters on the ground. There was only one page of the paper. It was... an advertisement for the camp?

I squinted at the headline, which was oddly familiar. "Spend the summer at Camp Starlight – once you enter, you'll never want to leave". My eyes widened. That was the exact headline my parents had seen before sending us to camp, complete with the address underneath. At least, I thought it was. I continued to read. "We have hiking, swimming, canoeing, and an amazing view of the stars at night over the campfire."

Was this how they sent their advertisements? I felt a sudden sense of excitement. It was kind of cool I had discovered this. I felt like I was behind the scenes.

"Adelaide, hurry up!" David whined. "I want Mom and Dad to see our letters."

I carefully folded up the newspaper and placed it back in the postbox, before placing our letters on top of it. I did feel a little better. Even if our letters rotted like the other ones in the postbox, I felt better just writing to my parents and best friend, even if they never heard from us. The rest of the day passed smoothly. Or maybe it was just writing the letter that had soothed me.

That night, I went to bed earlier than anyone, trying my hardest to get to sleep. I thought about asking to switch bunks. I remembered what David had said about how he thought they had given him the worst bunk on purpose. I wondered if that was true for me as well. It was certainly the bunk with the most light from the night sky being gleamed onto the mattress. The lower ones were too far away from the sky, and the other bunk was located further from the moon.

I heard the girls getting out of their bunks and running out of the cabin, but I didn't pay them any mind. It was almost a calming background noise. I was just about to doze into sleep when I was woken.

"Adelaide! Adelaide, wake up!"

My eyes jolted open, irritation filling me. "What?" I snapped, glaring at my cabin mates.

"It's an emergency!" insisted Amber. "We have to get out of here, now!"

I rolled my eyes. "Is this another way to convince me to leave the cabin?" I had given up on asking them about last night. They just stared at me like I was the crazy one every time I brought it up, and pretended as if nothing had ever happened. I almost felt like I had imagined everything and that I was the crazy one. But Natalie prevented me from thinking that. Not that she offered any answers either.

"We're serious!" Caroline insisted, her eyes wide with fear. "There's a fire!"