General
"Mosquitos? Scorpions? Rattlesnakes? Maybe even rabid grizzly bears? I can hardly wait."
"Drop the sarcasm, Callie. Gerry sais the bugs aren't bad this summer. Now go pack. It's a long drive and we need to get started."
I sighed again. Like it or not, I was going camping. Cold nights, snoring mothers, bloodthirsty mosquitoes, stinky outhouses and all. Not to mention
having to listen to my cousin go on and on about her horse. Or her 4-H projects.
But there was nothing I could do. I had to go. Sighing again, I picked up my suitcase and went in the house.
My past is misery; my present, agony; my future, bleak. And it is not just because I'm a thirteen-year-old girl, or because I'm too thin or too tall or because my hair is red (it's orange actually—but they call it red).
