Brrring!!!! That was the breakfast bell, but Emily paused for a moment- something about that sound made her think of gunfire, like that of the railroad guns from World War Two. No matter though, that was a silly association to make at all. She got up from her bed in the now- deserted cabin, and imagined her life as a cartoon: all of her friends would be the impatient and hasty ones, always running everywhere and leaving the dust for her to cough on. Her, the one who always had the answer, her, the one who thook the road less traveled by... That tangent would have to wait, though, because she was late for breakfast!
At breakfast, Emily listened to her group's new debate- how much poison was on the arrowtips of the indians that attacked the New World settlers? Riham, Jessica, Alda, and Cecilia all seemed to belive that there was tons on every single one, and Ruth, Brittany, and Sally belived that there were certian stashes on arrows that had only some poison. Personally, Emily thought that no poison was used on the east coast, but no one had any real evidence, so the matter was undecided in her mind. She gulped down her orange juice and tore apart her waffles so quickly, however, that the girls soon trailed into a disscusion of weather food could kill you without choking you. Announcments were made, and the Diasy cabin leader, Samantha, went to pickup their activites list. "OK girls, listen up!" she bellowed. "First thing for us today is the low ropes course, which we will have untill lunch. We'll go straight to the picnic grounds and pick it up now, though, so we can keep moving. Next, we have a canoe trip to Brownie Island and back, which will leave us with just enough time before dinner to have a soccer match. Got it?" "Got it!" cheered the campers. " ...Then here we go, follow me!"
Low ropes was fun, Emily supposed, but it was auofly dirty. Already, they had been through a mud swing, a wierd turtle challenge on woodchips, a tree stump game, and a rope-net thing. She hadn't paid much attention because of the scenery. For some reason, this gloomy little forest gave her chills like her brother never could. Sitting down to lunch had been nice, exept that she had been thinking when the strawberries were passed aroud, so she got skipped. The canoe trip had been stuningly beutiful, but over to quickly. Now Brownie island, that was cool! All over the trails lay little baggies holding 1 or 2 brownies each- and they were really good, too. Now, she was playing soccer with her cabin against Bugsy cabin, full of a bunch of fat mean girls. On the sidelines sat most of Butterfly Cabin, which had all the poular girls. She tried to write a poem to herself about the grass she sat on, thinking that she would not need to pay attention. After all, no one ever passed to her.
Sickly grass, what have they done
to make you look like such a dumb
peice of plastic,
Wthout the life that nature gave,
you are nothing but a grav- uffff!
"Owwww..... (of course, Fairy tale timing....)". "Time out, time out! hey kid, are you Ok?" "wowitlookslikesheshurtshouldwecallthenurse?" "Serves her right for not paying attention..." "Come on, help her up!".... Emily was out cold.