Sleep-away camp

I was working at a summer camp; a performing arts camp for adults. I wasn't just working there, it was my camp--but nobody knew it. Other people ran it and that was fine. Even though I was there I didn't really participate, I spent a lot of time walking around the small colorado town that housed it. My parents were both there. Waking, this would never happen, of course, because they hardly stand each other, but hey, I wasn't awake.

A girl I used to dance with (she was much better than I ever was) was teaching there as were some other of my super talented friends. Most of the people there were my age (25-35) and nearly everyone I have ever known was a camper. Instead of dorms or cabins or whatever camps usually have, everyone was living in this big house...my house in my dream, my mom's old house in real life only much bigger. No one knew it was mine.

On this particular day I was walking through the town with someone else, not sure who and it was all uphill. I had to be back to the camp soon. I didn't think I would be able to make it up the hill so I crawled as fast as I could.When I got to my house I saw that the other people living in it had completely trashed it; there were clothes everywhere and it was dirty. It was a complete mess and I was really upset.

The campers were really mean to me, I kept thinking "if they knew this was my camp they wouldn't treat me like this", but I still didn't say anything. I was trying to get into a room and the people in there wouldn't let me in. Finally I got in but none of them would leave me alone and more people wanted in. They were really pushy. A couple of them were yelling at me and arguing with me; one of them broke a section out of the door.

I was talking to my dad outside about how he was going to let some girl move into his house with him and his wife. She didn't have much money and he needed help with the rent. He said that 2 Sundays a month he would be going over to someone's house to help her build coffee tables.

Every day the performers did a different kind of show and I always watched but I never participated.

Everybody ate lunch together in this big caffeteria. There were no lights but there were big windows that let in just enough light that we could all see. On this day I was eating a sandwich and I was about 3/4 of the way done with it when I realized that it had both ham and salami on it (2 things I do not eat), I tried to get it all out and I was left with a piece of havarti cheese and bread.

It was really, really hot in the caffeteria and I kept saying, "I don't think I can do this, I don't think I can do this" over and over. There was trash everywhere and nobody was doing what they were supposed to and nobody was paying attention to the mess they were making. There was a broken toy on the floor and I got mad and kicked it. I walked up to my dad and I said, "Dad, I do not think I am going to last three weeks here". He said, "I know, I wouldn't expect you to."

(At this point I noticed that I had identical lavender tattoos on the insides of both my forearms)

I walked up to one of my best friends who I love dearly and I sat on his lap and I was hugging him (even though we were both really sweaty and gross because of the heat) and kind of rocking back and forth and I was begging him, "let's just go to Denver, please! Please let's just go to Denver. Just for a few days, let's get out of this place."

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