The Abandonment

We were left behind.

Tragic, I might say, but we were abandoned. Something that should only happen in fictional stories that end with happy hugs, smiles, and gratuity to the Lord, but no. In a way, my life had become a fictional tale, told to little children in their quilted beds, rosy cheeked, pajamas on, minty breath, a faint golden light coming from their night lamp to provide light for the story. But no, we were truly abandoned. Perhaps I should start from the start.

October 26, the day that we had left our small town, Aylesbury, for our senior year field trip, a way to alleviate the stress of school, and a way to get away from controlling, annoying, yet still caring, parents. We had all said our goodbyes and piled into a tin-can of a bus.

Embarking on our five hour drive towards the camp ground, sensible people slowly, but surely, were lulled into a sleep by the undulating ground of the bus. Others, began to use the time as a way to do things they wouldn't-or couldn't- usually do. I quietly sat in the window seat of the twelfth row of our "cozy", smelly, loud, hectic bus and enjoyed the scenery passing by. Lush, green forests made of conifers, pine trees, and maple trees. I opened the window a crack and breathed in a cool, fresh breath of cold mountain air. I relaxed, leaned my dark, mocha-brown colored hair against the window, put on my headphones, and slid into the corner of my seat, feeling content.

Five hours later, we arrived at the campsite. It was the same as my older sister, Carrie, who had gone before, had described it. Barren, cold, dried out fire places, patches of snow and frost covered grass. We, the students of Aylesbury High, used our extensive knowledge of camping, although many of us had never been camping before. We slowly took apart the poles for our tents, figuring out as we went along, helping each other, occasionally poking the other person with a flailing rod, meant to be stuck into polyester covers.

Later that evening, after spending a day setting up tents and hiking up unbearably cold mountains in obviously insufficient clothing, we gathered around a fire, grateful for the golden-yellow, orange, and sparking embers sparking up from the brown, charred wood. We roasted marshmallows until they were burnt to a crisp, and sausages that were cooked just right. After the mighty feast of burnt marshmallows and amazing sausages, we retired for the night, preparing for the next day of fun activities.

I awoke to the crisp, dewy morning air of the mountain side we were on and the chirping of many enthusiastic birds, surprisingly not tired, despite the time it was. I slowly rubbed my eyes, and hoped my hair didn't look as matted and puffy as I thought they were. I rubbed my hands, and breathed a couple of warm, hot, blissful breaths into my blue hands. I then reached for my cuddly, checkered coat that I had packed bought a week before for this exact one-day trip. I slowly unzipped the thick zipper of my polyester tent, and braced myself for the harsh morning light of the glittering sun.

Yawning and still coming to consciousness, I spotted my best friend Sylvia and ran up to her. I sleepily said, "How'd you sleep last night-- oh wait let me guess-- horribly."

Sylvia let out a small early-morning laugh and responded, "Actually, yes Harper. I have the back aches that someone five times my age might have. Wait, whats going on over there?"

Sylvia was pointing towards a cluttered group of students whispering and looking dejected. We ran towards the group- thump thump thump, worried of what the news might be.

Our counselor spoke up and stated, "I am so sorry, but we will have to end this trip early. The campsite is closing down due to abnormalities in water levels, and remind you all, this is for your OWN safety. Don't come up to me and whine saying 'OMG why' or 'this campsite is stupid'. None of this is my fault."

I let out a groan of annoyance and of tiredness. Sylvia looked at me and mouthed the words, "they are soooo, ugh"

I let out a suppressed a sigh and said, "well, I guess I got to go pack my bags AGAIN. ugh."

Sylvia nodded and started back to her bubble-gum pink tent, while I made my way back to my navy-blue colored one.

In less than an hour, we were all piled back into the smelly, disgustingly warm, banana-yellow, tin can bus, and started out way winding down the mountain. I curled up in my corner, propped my head on my makeshift coat-pillow, and fell into the deep sleep I had missed.

In what seemed like five minutes, we were back home in our homely town of Aylesbury. Startled, I was shaken awake by Sylvia who had been listening to , in my opinion, the trashiest music ever. But anyhow, I looked outside and saw the friendly wooden sign with faded red letters that read, "WELCOME TO AYLESBURY!" I smiled and shuffled out of the bus with the rest of the students. Sylvia and I talked of all the cute guys and our crushes, and why we liked them. We laughed a lot and giggled quietly while the counselor counted us off and drove off in the bus.

Surprisingly, there were no adults to supervise us getting home or any adults to pick us up and give us a warm welcome. We did not think of this as mysterious, as our trip had been cut short, and the parents were most likely not aware. Understandingly, 56 high school seniors went their separate ways and made their way back home.

My homely town of Ayelsbury was fortunately not too big, so the walking distance was bearable. I lugged all my luggage and walked alongside Sylvia giggling and skipping back to our warm houses.

Walking through the streets, I noticed they were eerily empty. "Strange" I thought, "It's a Sunday, shouldn't people be at church or grocery shopping?"

As Sylvia and I progressed more into town, we found no cars, no lights one, no car tracks in the light, soft, snow that had fallen in our absence. Finally, I saw my pale blue house, said farewell to Sylvia and entered my house, a bit desperately. I so desperately wanted to see my overprotective parents more than ever before. But no, my house was empty.

Slowly but surely, I knew, we had been abandoned.