Welcome to Camp Green Lake

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The man walked between the field of holes. A group of kids were each digging a hole, dirt flying up in every which direction. Each kid wore an orange jumpsuit, caked with dust and dirt. One kid slid down into his hole, exhausted.

The kid's gloved hands gripped the edge of the hole, pulling himself halfway up. A hiss nearby made him stop. He looked up and squinted through the sun, seeing a rattlesnake not far from his hole.

"Let me tell you, we're burning up out here," the man patrolling the holes said into a hole. "This global warming." The rattlesnake rattled at the kid in the hole. "The hole in the ozone is directly above my head."

"The hole is in your head," the other man said.

The kid slowly pulled off his shoe and then his sock. The snake's rattling intensified. The two men continued their talk, not noticing the kid stand up and approach the rattlesnake. The snake hissed warningly, but the kid didn't back away.

"Barf Bag!" One of the other kids called.

"Barf Bag, what're you doing?!"

"Barf Bag!"

"It's not that bad! Come on, man!"

By now everyone was staring at Barf Bag, but he continued to approach the snake. 

"This isn't funny, man! Stop playing!" A girl called.

"Barf Bag, what're ya doin'?!" A boy with round classes cried. Barf Bag slowly went to step on the rattlesnake and screamed when its teeth sunk into his bare foot.

-----

As Stanley walked home from his after-school detention, a pair of shoes, tied together by the laces, fell on the top of his head. He grunted, falling to the ground from the momentum. He groaned as he sat up, turning to see what had hit him.

All my life, I seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Stan looked up at the sky in confusion.

-----

Stan rode through the desert in the bus, clutching his bag to his chest.

My grandpa says it's because of this 150-year-old curse. I mean, I don't really believe in the family curse, but when things go wrong, it kind of helps if you have something to blame it on.

Stan looked over at the guard in the front seat across the aisle. The guard held his rifle where the fifteen-year-old was able to see it clearly.

And for me, things went wrong a lot.

Stan picked up the shoes and sniffed them, shrinking back.

"Oh, geez!" He pinched his nose, grimacing. He looked around, not seeing anyone, before booking it to his home.

Grandpa says our fate is sealed.

The police car came up around the corner, its siren yelling loudly. Stan looked behind him and kept running.

Could a pair of shoes falling from the sky really be part of my destiny?

The cop car pulled around in front of Stan, and the boy slowed to a stop.

"Come here, boy!" The cop yelled, getting out of the car.

"Hold it right there!" The other cop ordered.

"Why are you running?" The first cop asked. "Did you steal those shoes?"

"No, I didn't do anything," Stan said, holding up his hands. The laces of the shoes were gripped in one fist.

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