A Christmas To Remember

Chapter 2

C

hapter 2:”I don’t repeat the same mistake twice”

There are two words that one person can say that will make a person feel like hell while simultaneously being excited. These words can inspire fear and painful memories. They can also stir up feelings of joyous glee, the kind that you can only get when looking back on an experience instead of feeling it in the moment. These words that have many different associated feelings can only belong to:

Band Camp

My spine shivers just thinking about it. Oh the torture! Two weeks of complete and utter sunburns, heat exhaustion, people passing out from heat exhaustion, “Set!”, “Reset!”, “From the top!”, punishment push-ups, punishment laps, more sunburns, “Gush n’ Go!”, sweet air-conditioning for lunch breaks, setting music and choreo to drill, more drill, more sunburns, early mornings, late nights, and repeat.

It isn’t until after the season usually that we realize all the relationships we built and all the things we accomplished through the literal blood, sweat, and tears. However, in the moment, band camp is nothing but a legal child torturing program that we willing signed our souls to.

My senior year of band camp, although the same experience, was somewhat different. THere was a nostalgia about everything and a sadness when I realize that I will never be able to experience the torture of high school band camp again.

My next big challenge is a lesser threat, but a threat nonetheless. My last first day of school goes by pretty averagely. Valerie strikes my last nerve because she bashes on Sicily. Honestly, Valerie is a real queen b to the itch on my rear end. No one messes with my family except me. I am a very non confrontational person and I don’t hate anyone but when it comes to Valerie Stevens, I am seriously stretched to my limit.

When I arrive home, I find my parents suspiciously sitting on the couch. It isn’t like they are never together, however, when my dad finishes his shift at the hospital, he is usually sleeping. I approach cautiously like my parents are going to just burst into flames or something.

“Dusty! Welcome home!” My mother’s voice breaks the silence dripping with an over excessive amount of sweetness. Okay, now I know something is up.

“What’s going on?”

“Your father and I have an announcement and we are really excited to share it with you.” Alright, now I’m scared.

“Yes, we have decided to send you on a vacation!” My father finally speaks up.

“Cool! Where are we going?”

“Not ‘we’ Sweetie. You.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We have been worried about you and your...social health, per say, and with you turning 18 right before Christmas break, we wanted you to experience some social interactions on your own and that is why we are sending you to London for your break. That way you can’t come running home when you feel awkward and also because we know that you love Shakespeare. We thought it would be a good fit for you. Surprise!” My mother’s words come crashing down on my anxiety filled mind.

I know what this sounds like ‘Oh spoiled rich girl problems. Your parents are sending you across the world without supervision. You poor baby!’ Well, when you have never been outside your state, let alone without your parents, and you have major social anxiety, you will see why this ‘amazing opportunity’ is actually a nightmare.

“B-But I will miss Christmas with you guys…” I use the only viable escape option that I see.

“It was bound to happen at some point. Let’s just rip the bandaid off now. Besides, we will call you all the time and expect pictures and updates.” My dad tries poorly to reason me out of my own doubts.