13: Cuts Like a Knife

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This chapter contains sensitive subject matter of a sexual nature, depicting a scene of attempted sexual assault, and therefor is potentially triggering. Proceed with caution


Not a day went by since she arrived where Mickey didn't wonder what they were digging for. It was a bit too systematic for them to be digging holes, five feet-by-five feet every day. Up at four to trek out to the old lake-bed to start in a new area; "building character" Mr. Sir called it. If they wanted the campers to build character so badly it probably would be easier to force them all to sit down and talk about their feelings until they cracked. Even so she knew there was no sense in asking what they were looking for; the campers either didn't know or didn't care and she'd never get a straight answer out of Mr. Sir or Pendanski. The further she stayed away from them, the better.

The mere sight of Mr. Sir was enough for her to duck out of his sight any time he glanced in D-Tent's direction; being subjected to the strength of his squinty-eyed stare made Mickey's knees knock and her body quake due to the thick air of uncertainty surrounding him. His gruff demeanor didn't earn him points either.

Pendanski on the other hand, he was like a spinning coin, she didn't know what face he was going to land on. Just when she felt herself getting comfortable around him his smile would slide right off his face and he'd stare at her, as if waiting for her to cause trouble. Her frustrations mounted around him; it was as if her mere existence caused him so much grief that he would find fault in anything she did or didn't do. She briefly wondered if someone out there had hurt him but then cut that thought short; no amount of possible past pain could justify his actions towards her.

The Warden was the biggest enigma in the entire camp. Mickey'd never seen the Warden or even knew what the Warden looked like. All she had been told about the Warden was to never upset them, to never lie in the hammock between the two oak trees, and to never give a reason to see the Warden. In fact, they said, if she managed to go her entire sentencing without seeing the Warden the better off she'd be. All the mystery surrounding the Warden had her wondering if they even existed or if they were a tool to keep everyone in line.

Mickey slammed her shovel into the dirt and stepped on the edge, shoving the blade further into the dirt beneath her feet. It was barely past ten if she could guess the time. The sun was high but not directly overhead. Their holes weren't too deep, up to the waist for most of them; Mickey's barely reached thigh height. She envied their advantage of having longer legs which allowed for better lifting. She didn't suffer from soreness much anymore, thankfully; the sun and the worked strengthened her muscles and toughened her skin but it still wasn't an easy task to accomplish. Yet, every day she still managed to find the strength to pull through and finish what she started. If only she had a grasp on that strength a few months ago. Maybe then she'd be able to stand up to her mother, maybe then she'd be able to stop the rumors going around her school, and maybe then she'd like herself a little more.

She scooped another pile of dirt out of her hole and then knelt to toss out a few rocks. If she managed to find something somewhat interesting while digging it would make the time pass faster, she reasoned. A fossil like Caveman would be cool, at least she'd have something to take back to show her parents. If they still spoke to her when she got home, that is. It was a bit odd that her father didn't send a letter himself, or at least have a small note to go along with her mother's; then again when he was away for work it was hard to get a hold of him. It was easier for him to call them than it was the other way around; he took his "no cell phone while driving" rule very seriously. It wasn't unusual for him to call at odd hours.

Her lips curled into a smile as she thought about what she'd be doing if she weren't at Camp Green Lake. Probably coasting through a day of school just to run home and wait for her dad to call. Her mom would probably be out at the Country Club trying to console one of her friends going through her third divorce while simultaneously offering up her services to represent her. And, if she was lucky, a box would come in the mail and it would be a new snow globe that her father spotted while on the road. She already had a collection of twenty-three excluding her Disney themed ones; she was looking to get one from each state. But if she was unlucky, she'd be alone in the empty, still house waiting and wishing and praying for someone to acknowledge her. She stopped smiling, sighed, and dug into the dirt again.

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