The room was split into three different halves.

Alea’s was in the far right corner. She dragged me over. Her bed was a circle, with a half-dome over the back of it made from the same material as the dorm, with pink covers and lightly colored pillows to match.

Her desk was against the glass wall of the building, covered in messy sketches of all different sorts of animals. The desk itself was medium...

The dormitories were _insane. _I wasn’t sure how they worked though.

Boys and girls separate?

Separated by talent?

Everyone just went where they wanted?

Turns out, none of the above. According to Leo, the room chose you. Lucky me, I didn’t have a power yet, and that was how they chose.

Each dorm was about ten feet off of the ground on something like a large tree stump. They were all in a large se...

The pavilion was huge, roughly the size of a football field. The clear, shimmering, octagon-shaped tiles sparkled in the sunlight.

A small gazebo sat near the end of the pavilion at the far left, that’s where Leonard was leading me.

A boy and a girl that looked about my age, 15-16 years old, were talking near the side.

They stopped when they saw Leo.

The girl had long wavy black hair, amber eyes...

Am I a troubled teen? Mabey. Although “troubled” doesn’t _necessarily_ apply to what I am.

My parents are the living definition of “a picture of perfection”. Top of all their classes in college, perfect teeth, perfect smile, perfect hair, perfect personality, perfect powers, perfect everything. The _only_ thing not perfect? Me.

Their not so smart, rebellious, 14-year-old, black sheep of the fam...

I wake up at 6 at the normal time as I do every day, it's an hour-long bus ride to school and school starts at 8. I roll out of bed, almost falling off, and walk downstairs to see my mom and two women. I think nothing of it; they're probably just her friends. I grab a pancake my mom made and take a seat at the dining table with the rest of them.

"Good morning," I say.

"Hello, darling. We need ...

I turned to the entrance of the camp. According to my parents, I was spending my entire summer here.

The kids looked terrifying. I hid my hands behind my back and tried not to let my anxiety take control.

Too late.

My hands were shaking, and I knew what would happen now. I ducked as a small tree branch flew past me and landed on the cement with a loud crack.

Everyone stared at me.

...

“Wilderness camp? C’mon, Mom, you know that’s stuff for druids,” Grackle’s voice whined from the back of the carriage, almost drowned out by the sound of the rocks under the horse’s hooves. “,and I don’t need to learn anything they teach, those spells are all for softies. A mere kit could cast guidance.”

In the front, he could tell his mother rolled her eyes again. “For the fifth time, you are g...

Lost my draft. A placeholder because I don’t want to write my poem again....

“This is bullshit,” his hiking boots sloshing the mud underneath them. “This can’t even be legal.”

“Listen, Jay,…can I call you Jay?” (The older yet eerily chipper camp counselor could not call him Jay. His mother, as horrid as she was for sending him to a camp where everything and everyone was consistently damp and cold, named him Jason, much to the behest of the guy seemingly running the place)...

Look. It’s not _my _fault I’m prone to trouble. Well, maybe it is, but that’s no reason to send me off to a summer camp for “troubled teens”. Everyone here’s either emo or just plain weird. Their magic style reflects it too. Your wings reflect your personality. Mine are - and I quote - Mischievous Green. Fitting, huh? Most of the weird kids’ wings are orange, and you can probably guess the emo kid...