Sweet Obsession - H.S

05│Something Great

20th July 2009

Watching the sea of smiling parents, giggling teens and clueless toddlers hovering around the car park, is only making me more anxious and certain that I don't want to be here. And especially not for the next six weeks of my life, which will undoubtedly be the longest six weeks of my life - and the worst summer ever.

I cringe every time Mum almost runs over a small child, or brushes a suitcase which has seemingly been left abandoned by the over excited families. Nevertheless, everyone seems too oblivious to notice, all focused on the fact they're saying goodbye to their loved ones for the next whatever many days it may be.

It's a little surprising that no one seems to care about their luggage. I mean, it's not as though this is a 'cheap' camp. Therefore, these families have money and I'm sure the items in said luggage aren't that cheap either. With all of them lying around, I really am surprised no one cares if they get stolen, or crushed under the wheel of a car, which isn't out of the question with my Mum's driving.

Then again. I'm not entirely sure that a thief would opt for a suitcase filled with items only useful for six weeks at a summer camp, so perhaps the latter is the more probable. Not to mention, all the families here would easily replace the clothing, not even blinking an eyelid at the price of which.

Don't get me confused with this crowd. I am not one of them. We're well off, we have a nice place and can afford basic luxuries. But this is most certainly out of budget. So the question of why am I here? Well that would be down to Mr Duncan, and his stupid literary competition which he was adamant on entering my work into.

I didn't want to enter in the first place, I hate when people read my writing, especially when those people proceed to critique it and compare it to others. I mean, I was practically held against my will, and when I finally caved I found he'd already sent it off.

Low and behold. I won.

And that would be how I ended up here. At this questionable camp for the so-called gifted and talented. In all the places it could've been, we for some reason are in Cornwall, not too far from the coast, in a seaside town called Bude. Or in other words, a place no one outside of Cornwall has ever heard of. But to actually get to the beach may be a half an hour walk, give or take a few minutes.

I'd much rather be on Whitstable pier, and if I was truly desperate for a sandy beach, then Margate is only another twenty minutes on the train. I didn't need to travel eight bloody hours.

It's a place I've unsurprisingly never heard of, but we can allegedly develop our skills and talents, all the while showcasing them (more like bragging) to one another.

What a load of crap.

The likelihood of anybody here actually getting somewhere in life, is very much impossible.

I've already made my mind up about this place, filled with a bunch of snobby teens, competing for who's Daddy earns the most money and flashing their designer items that mean nothing to anybody - not even themselves.

"Mum, I don't want to go." My words are blunt, and voice weak, already knowing that these few thrown together syllables won't change a thing. Considering the fact that the plenty of other pleaing words I've spoken thus far in this car journey have yet to take any effect on my Mother.

I don't want to do this. I don't want to go. The words continue on an endless loop in my head, knowing full well my pessimism won't get me very far, but I can't shake the thought.

She doesn't respond, knowing I won't listen to a word she has to say. Just as she doesn't seem to listen to a word of my own. "I'm not getting out of the car. Mum, I won't know anyone, nobody will like me. And dare I say this, but I honestly don't think I can go six weeks without seeing you, or Dad, or Eli." My objections continue just as they did the whole journey here, except this time, rather than looking out at the greyscale cars on the motorway, I'm now staring out onto a sea of brightly dressed people, wondering to myself why on earth they all seem so happy.