The Musings of a Teenage Something

Camping

The river was barely a step above a large creek. It was deep enough for canoes and kayaks at some spots, but not around the beach. You could walk from one side to the other without ever having to wade. Children were playing and having a good time despite the cold water and the wind. The scene was like a family reunion, folding chairs and beach towels lined the shore. It was cloudy. The sun peeking in and out of the huge masses in the sky.

It reminded you of an amazon river with how the trees lined the banks. You're from Kansas and the never ending forest like this are foreign to you.

You didn't like how the far clouds looked so dark. The wind was starting to annoy you, how it whipped your hair around your face. You put down your book, Pride and Prejudice, and looked in your red backpack for a hair tie. Your wallet was in there and your small camera. There was a notebook full of poems and short stories you wrote, and blue pens. You only write in blue ink. You sighed, thinking that you had put a hair tie in your bag.

You gathered up your things, the wind still whipping your hair around your head. After you have everything packed up, you put your MP3 player in your bikini top and stood up. You slipped on your USA flip flops you bought at the dollar store just for this trip, something cheap and you wouldn't care if they got lost. You walked over to your mother, the rocks shuffling beneath your feet as you walked.

She looked up, hearing you come. You took out an earbud and stated, "It's too windy to read. I'm going to the camper."

"Okay." She said.

You walked off the rocky beach and walked across the camp to your RV. You slipped off the right strap of your backpack, the pressure rubbing your sunburn too hard. You never burn.

Once back in the RV, you didn't exchange any words with your brother. Instead you walked into the small bathroom and changed out of your swim suit and into a tank top and shorts. You hung up your towel to dry in the shower along with your swim suit. You were hot from the sun and craved AC. You turned on a fan and angled it towards you. Then you sat down on the couch and pulled your laptop onto your lap.

You opened up your writing notebook and flipped to your page on Writer's Block. You looked through the list of ideas you've gathered. Some of them you can't do, like go to a book store or taking a smoking break (you don't smoke, you're a minor). You found an exercise that looked simple enough and opened up a notepad on the laptop. You started typing, trying to get over the writer's block.

So, you wrote:

The river was barely a step above a large creek...