It was meant to be a fun camp, for kids like me. A camp with people who knew what to do with my diabetes. I don't think that any more.
It was night. I needed the toilet. I've never been scared of the dark, and I never believed in monsters. How foolish of me. I walked happily towards the wooden door, listening to a rock song on my iPod. I tried to open the door, but apparently, it was locked. I shrugged, but jumped at the sound of a rumbling, throaty groan from inside. I rolled my blue eyes. Some kids playing a trick obviously. I yanked the door open and looked inside. There was no one there. I shrugged again and sat down on the toilet. That was when I noticed it. There was an arm on the door, the hand clenching to the inside door knob. It was an off-green colour, and parts of the skin and flesh were torn off.
Maggots seemed to stare at me from the holes in the arm. I was frozen with shock. When I successfully un-froze myself, I ran out of the little toilet, but ran into someone. Without looking at the person, I turned back to look at the toilet.
"Thank God you're here!" I said, relieved. The only answer that came was a moan, and then I felt an unbearable heat running through me, starting at my neck.