04 | Happy Accident

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ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING
iv. HAPPY ACCIDENT

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   FROM A YOUNG AGE, Riley Stark was 100% aware that the majority of things you see on television aren't real

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   FROM A YOUNG AGE, Riley Stark was 100% aware that the majority of things you see on television aren't real. It's mostly scripted, exaggerated, and filmed countless times to perfectly capture the exact moment as desired—for the most part. Even if she'd somehow made time in her busy life to watch teen dramas, she'd always remembered to take what she saw with a grain of salt, and she'd recall this for all 16 years of her life. That was until she arrived at Camp Mirkhaven.

   Camp Mirkhaven was, in simple terms, something straight out of a made-for-TV movie. Riley wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this.

   For the past few days, Riley had been through countless exercises that indirectly worked as group therapy for her and the students of Midtown High. During the day, stations were set up dedicated to bonding through various summer activities, like tie-dying t-shirts and going canoeing down by the river. When the skies darkened, the campers and camp counselors would participate in campfire chats and make smores.

   Riley wasn't surprised by how desperately she needed those campfire chats. It was all deep talks about feelings and sentimental crap she'd never really learned how to express. Honestly, she hardly ever spoke about her own issues, even to her own family. She preferred to keep it in whenever she could.

   Nonetheless, she appreciated their nightly campfire chats. They gave her peace in knowing that she wasn't alone in her trauma, despite the fact that her burdens were a bit more... unique.

   Although the stations that were set up around camp were a little cliche, Riley was having the time of her life being a normal teenager again. She missed spending time with her friends and making new ones along the way, even if that meant being dragged into things she didn't want to do.

   "You really couldn't have picked any other station to go to?" whispered Riley on the afternoon of the 20th of July, 2023. She shot MJ a little glare. "This sucks."

   She sat in front of an easel, a weathered paintbrush in hand as one of the camp counselors led a painting session. Riley shifted on the uncomfortable stool she sat on as MJ composedly kept her attention trained on her canvas. "You said that if I let you make me do your athletic crap, I could pick the next station," MJ reminded Riley matter-of-factly.

   Riley found herself pouting without realizing it. "Well, I was hoping you'd pick... Oh, I dunno..." she trailed. "Underwater basket weaving... or something." Riley shook her head, unhappily dragging her tool across her canvas. "I suck at this."

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