The night is crisp——perfect weather for something to go wrong. The Lake is a camp for middle schoolers, although the kids who attend would say otherwise. The camp is known for its spooky tales. Many campers suffer from nightmares——well maybe that’s because of the reason they’re there in the first place. Trauma. All the kids have that in common. Most are teens; all the kids that attend have witnessed traumatizing things that no one should ever have to go through. But that’s the thrill of it, I guess.

That was what a teen had wrote to me——well she’s not just any teen; she’s my girlfriend. She’d gotten sent off to this camp, or rather boarding school after she saw our best friend kill himself. The sad part is that we weren’t a trio; but a quad. Our best friend’s name was Aaron; and his boyfriend, Colin was our fourth. We often went on double dates.

With Aaron dead, Colin is heavily depressed. His mother called me and my girlfriend often to try and get him out the house, sometimes it’s works, sometimes not. I just don’t understand, he was perfectly fine before this, he and Colin had just hit their 5th year anniversary.

I take a deep breath, and lay in my bed, deeply puzzled over the letter. I hold it up to the light——just in case she left a secret message or something. Though it’s unlikely.

“Amelia!”

I sigh, dropping the letter on my bed. “Yes!”

“C’here!”

I sigh again——it’s my mother. I know not just by the voice, but the way she always tells me to come to her. I trek down the stairs, hoping it’s nothing bad.

“Yes, Mom,” I say, stepping onto the bare wood.

My mother stands behind the kitchen island, cutting some cucumbers. “I have some news for you.” Her voice is sweet like honey, per usual.

“Is it bad?”

“Depends. You’ll get to see that little girlfriend of yours.”

A flush paints my cheeks briefly, as I smile.

Mom smiles. “I thought so; me and your father have decided to put you in the same camp.”

My smile falters. “What?” Had I misheard her?

“We’re putting you in the Trauma Center Camp. Start packing your bags.”

I enter the car; on one hand I’m excited to see my girlfriend, on the other I’m not excited to learn more about this camp. My mother rants the entire way about the camp and how great it will be for me.

After what feels like forever, we arrive. I drag my luggage with me, with my bag on my back.

“What can I do for ya?” The woman at the front desk asks.

“I need to check in my daughter, Amelia Andrews,” my mother answers. “We have a reservation for her with Samantha Miller.”

Click. Click. Click, the lady types on her keyboard. “I have some unfortunate news.”

“What is it?” My mother asks, concerned.

“Samantha died yesterday at the lake.”