June 30, 2014
Camp Sabala was officially the poorest camp in BC, it was on the news. And that just happened to be where Linda was abandoning me for practically the whole summer. I only got one week of friends, art classes, and Vancouver, and then Linda was going off to Hawaii, Hawaii, and ditching me for camp. And she was going to be like "Have fun!". Right.
I could leave, I thought, I could text Amy, let her know I was spending the summer with her -she'd be all for it, It's her parents who would need some convincing -and I could have easily climbed down the small ladder attached to the deck outside my room, it was only ten stories high- ah screw it, I thought. I could barely look down from my deck without thinking my dead body, smushed by one of the passing cars. Living in downtown Vancouver was scarier than it seemed. I flopped down on my bed, feeling like a dramatic high school musical character, abandoned by their parents-or in my case, my great aunt Linda- for an economic failure of a camp.
Just as I was planning my last week of freedom, Linda walked in (knocking is way to hard) "Hey, Cop, how was your last day of grade 9? Did you get your report card"
"Yeah, Linda, its over there", I said, thrusting my hand in the direction of my desk where my report card lay, unopened. I didn't see the point in report cards, all my teachers had already told my marks, and I had already figured out my average- 89%. But Linda seemed to find some sort of grotesque pleasure in the anticipation of how much my work from the past three-ish months was worth, right down to the percentage. I found it profoundly disturbing. Linda walked out the door, my report card in hand, leaving me to my thoughts-or my phone. I unlocked my phone with the same password that I had had for the past 6 months, and I'm pretty my whole 3000- people school knew it by now-0-7-6-9. I sent off a text to Amy and Brigitte, my two closest friends, asking them to come over to my apartment as soon as possible so that we could plan the following week- the last week I had left of freedom, to put it dramatically.
Amy and Brigitte and I weren't like the typical trio of best friends. First of all, we all went to different schools- Amy was homeschooled, Brigitte went to a mini school, and I went to a regular Vancouver school. We each had our own little group of friends outside our trio, but we didn't hang out with them out of school that much, and none of our other friends could ever be as close with us as the other two could be. I loved Amy and Brigitte to death, and I would give my life for either one of them without even a second thought.
But then again, I would give my life for a lot of people. Almost anyone. I guess I didn't put a lot of worth on my own life. A lot of people called me selfless for making so many sacrifices for other people, such as the feeding the homeless i did twice a week after school with Amy. But I just thought of it as common sense. One of those people could end up being a genius who invents something to save the ozone layer or some crazy shit like that, but they could never do it if they weren't alive. Plus, for the first four years of my life, my parents only motto was to make sure I grew up to become the most selfless and kind person I could possibly be. I sure hope I pleased them.
A knock on my door startles me out of my thoughts, and Brigitte walks in, followed by Amy. "Hey"
"So Lindas actually ditching you for Hawaii for the rest of the summer?"
"Yep, and guess where she's leaving me? Camp Sambala.
"Wasn't that on the news just the other day for being the poo-"
"Yes, Amy, it was.", I cut Amy off before she can get to the point, I really don't need to hear that again.
"Well, let's start planning our week in through detail that we will probably forget by tomorrow!", Brigitte says, with mock enthusiasm.
An hour later, I found myself turning my bedroom upside-down, looking for my stuffed koala. Now, my stuffed koala wasn't just any stuffed koala, it was The Stuffed Koala, as in, the one thing that hadn't left my side since the day I was born, as in, the one thing that I would spend my whole hour I had to pack before I went to spend my week at Brigitte's house looking for, screw hairbrush and deodorant and underwear. Finally, I found The Stuffed Koala, also known as Door (long story short, I was terrible at naming things when I was 2) wedged between my dresser and my wall.
After packing, and turning my room right-side-up again, I found myself lying on my bed, staring at my bedroom. I would miss my bedroom, it was kind of like my prized possession. It painted an almost-white cream colour, and it had little gold lights hung up all around the room at the place where the top of the wall meets the ceiling. There were clusters of sketches, paintings, posters, and pictures that I had taken-half of nature, and half of friends, also one of me and my family, on every wall. There was a sliding glass door on one side that led to a little deck with a small round ceramic table that had pieces of multicoloured beach glass pressed into the top, and 2 wire-chairs. in every corner of the deck, there were beautiful red and yellow and blue flowers. There was a very thin, light white fabric intertwined with threats of gold used as a curtain, that left about three feet of space before reaching the floor, where there was a space to put shoes. The same curtain was used on the window across the room, where there were more multicoloured flowers growing in small ceramic pots on the window ledge. I had a big double bed, with a white duvet, that had splashes of reds and golds and greens and purples and oranges spread across it. I also had an open closet, a little carpet on the floor, and a tall bookshelf full of books. My bedroom always smelled fresh, like flowers and rain. My house wasn't particularly nice- it was clean, small, and had the essentials, but nothing very fancy or modern.
After Lisa dropped me off at Brigitte's place, we went straight up to her room, and I couldn't help the nagging feeling that it was going to be more than just two months before I could see Brigitte and Amy again after that week with them. I missed them already
Sorry if these are getting annoying, I won't do authors notes for every chapter, but I hope you guys liked my first real chapter!!! Just so you know, the main characters real name is Copia (Ko-pee-ah), and when it's Cop, its pronounced Kope. Also, I know that this chapter might not seem as well-written, or deep, as the prologue, but my plan is for the character to grow a lot throughout the book, and as she grows, the writing well become more in-depth. I hope that made sense.