Six years ago
Mila
“Ew,” Sheelin said, “it looks like a bird shit,”
Lamai laughed, “You’re going to need Draino to get that thing out of your system,” I smiled and continued making my s’more. I had roasted a super marshmallow that looked like five regular marshmallows combined and slapped it onto a graham cracker. They were right; it did look like a bird shit. The chocolate was mixing with the gooey mess I called a marshmallow and it looked disgusting.
We were camping in the wonderful and usually rainy state of Washington. Surprisingly, it wasn’t raining, so Sheelin, Lamai, and I were camping in the Greenbelt behind my house. It was the summer of ’05 and the heat of our houses was so unbearable we decided to go camping. We had followed the path a little bit then set up a tent in a clearing. Even though we had been warned about creeps running around, we didn’t listen to the warning.
I raised the s’more up to my mouth and watched their expressions as I took a bite. Marshmallow oozed all over my hand and dripped onto my shorts.
Sheelin looked disgusted and amused at the same time. Sheelin was the youngest of us. I was almost 11, but she was still 10. Her fiery hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her emerald eyes sparkled in the fire. She wore black capris and a faded t-shirt topped off with thick flip-flops which made her pale skin even paler.
Lamai was laughing so hard it hurt her side. Her black hair was also pulled back into a ponytail. Thanks to her parents, she had inherited stormy eyes that were on the brink of crying. She wore paint splattered jeans and a fake vintage t-shirt. She was Japanese, Thai, and a little bit French so her skin was the color of coffee with tons of cream.
I was so busy trying not to spill anymore marshmallow I didn’t hear the bushes moving. One second Lamai was there, the next, a tattooed man appeared and she was gone. I looked around in horror and saw Sheelin running off into the bushes after the mysterious kidnapper. I dropped my half eaten s’more and dashed into the bushes. A dark shadow flitted off in the distance. I increased my speed and ran like there was no tomorrow.
I was so mad. I hadn’t listened to the warnings. I had let one of my best friends get abducted. If she died, it would be all my fault. I looked around and saw darkness.
“Lamai!” I screamed, “Lamai! Where are you?” my survival instincts kicked in and I ducked behind a tree. Making sure no one would sneak up on me, I hunched down on the ground and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed 9-1-1.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a tinny woman’s voice said.
Mila
“Ew,” Sheelin said, “it looks like a bird shit,”
Lamai laughed, “You’re going to need Draino to get that thing out of your system,” I smiled and continued making my s’more. I had roasted a super marshmallow that looked like five regular marshmallows combined and slapped it onto a graham cracker. They were right; it did look like a bird shit. The chocolate was mixing with the gooey mess I called a marshmallow and it looked disgusting.
We were camping in the wonderful and usually rainy state of Washington. Surprisingly, it wasn’t raining, so Sheelin, Lamai, and I were camping in the Greenbelt behind my house. It was the summer of ’05 and the heat of our houses was so unbearable we decided to go camping. We had followed the path a little bit then set up a tent in a clearing. Even though we had been warned about creeps running around, we didn’t listen to the warning.
I raised the s’more up to my mouth and watched their expressions as I took a bite. Marshmallow oozed all over my hand and dripped onto my shorts.
Sheelin looked disgusted and amused at the same time. Sheelin was the youngest of us. I was almost 11, but she was still 10. Her fiery hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her emerald eyes sparkled in the fire. She wore black capris and a faded t-shirt topped off with thick flip-flops which made her pale skin even paler.
Lamai was laughing so hard it hurt her side. Her black hair was also pulled back into a ponytail. Thanks to her parents, she had inherited stormy eyes that were on the brink of crying. She wore paint splattered jeans and a fake vintage t-shirt. She was Japanese, Thai, and a little bit French so her skin was the color of coffee with tons of cream.
I was so busy trying not to spill anymore marshmallow I didn’t hear the bushes moving. One second Lamai was there, the next, a tattooed man appeared and she was gone. I looked around in horror and saw Sheelin running off into the bushes after the mysterious kidnapper. I dropped my half eaten s’more and dashed into the bushes. A dark shadow flitted off in the distance. I increased my speed and ran like there was no tomorrow.
I was so mad. I hadn’t listened to the warnings. I had let one of my best friends get abducted. If she died, it would be all my fault. I looked around and saw darkness.
“Lamai!” I screamed, “Lamai! Where are you?” my survival instincts kicked in and I ducked behind a tree. Making sure no one would sneak up on me, I hunched down on the ground and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed 9-1-1.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a tinny woman’s voice said.
