Remeber When Ziggy Was A "Witch"

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Wednesday, July 19th, 1978
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— — —Wednesday, July 19th, 1978— — —

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Shadyside is a total shithole. And don't judge me for being harsh; I'm just being honest. My friends, or as they call themselves, "my suppliers," are the only things about living there that I value. I've known Joan and Alice for as long as I can remember. I was forced to avoid them once Cindy decided to tap into her nonexistent 'Sunnyvale' roots. Alice especially. She claims they have a negative impact on me. As if I'm expected to be bothered.

You're probably wondering where I am right now. Don't worry I'll tell you. I'm at the one and only Camp Nightwing. Now, instead of ranting on and on about how shitty this place is, I'll tell you the decent aspects. To start Joan and Alice are here, the guys are pretty hot, and...that's about it.

I was meant to be cleaning with Alice and her boyfriend, whose name I can't remember, but they began...y'know. The outhouse would be the next option. Cindy was there along with her boyfriend. Seems like they've got that covered. Mess-Hall it is.

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"Hey! Y/n, wait up!" I heard a familiar voice. Looking over my shoulder, I noticed none other than Nick Goode. I walked inside the Mess-Hall, clearly ignoring him. I grabbed a bucket and several sponges from storage. "Do you need any help?" Nick questioned, following in my footsteps.

"Nick, take a hint." Before turning on the pipe, I spat. He did everything he could to attract my attention. Fortunately, for him, it worked. Finally, I looked him in the eyes and handed him a sponge. "You're welcome to clean the tables."

"Why do you insist on being such a prick all the time?" Nick asked, looking up from the table he was scrubbing. Pausing my cleaning, I instinctively raised an eyebrow, signaling for him to continue talking. "Ever since you got to camp you've seemed done with life." He explained.

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