The newborn sun bled red streaks across the sky. Chloe’s hair glowed like a halo as we marched out of our tipsy cabin with its decayed wood that smelled of raw earth. Despite the ungodly hour, our campsite was glittering with life. A fire was flickering, but there was no smell of meat in the air. I craned my neck and frowned at the sighted of the vegetables roasting. My small nose crinkled with apprehension. Hippies, my dad called these people, my mom used a euphemism: animal activists.
My dad would have loved camping. He would have dragged me to the top of the hills and swam into the darkest, deepest part of the lake. A week full of smiles, and laughter, and dirt, and fire and my daddy. Instead I was stuck with the animal activists. Chloe and Jolie had never even seen Finding Nemo because their parents protested fish tanks!
“How did you sleep, …show more content…
The twin’s groaned in unison but my spines straightened.
“Will there be leopards?” I gushed, suddenly finding a new part of me. “Or tigers? Or lions? I want to see a big cat. Not that nonsense you see at shelters.”
He smiled in that funny, old way and we rose.
There were no cats. Yet as we pushed on, I grew more and more dazzled. The trees, massive column of life, protected me from the summer sun’s wrath. I loved them, along with the deep, brown dirt and the small birds that twittered above my head. I crawled on fallen trees and jumped into icy creeks and the world was so beautiful, I thought.
Soon, Michael and I were far ahead of the others. Maybe it was his crow's feet, but he never seemed to stop smiling and I never seemed to stop pestering him.
“Where are the animals? I haven't seen anything cool. You said these forests were filled with animals. Where are they? Where can we find them? What kind of animals are here?”
My excitement bled all over my mind. But as the day wore on, even my youthful hope began to die. There was nothing but dirt and leaves in that
My dad would have loved camping. He would have dragged me to the top of the hills and swam into the darkest, deepest part of the lake. A week full of smiles, and laughter, and dirt, and fire and my daddy. Instead I was stuck with the animal activists. Chloe and Jolie had never even seen Finding Nemo because their parents protested fish tanks!
“How did you sleep, …show more content…
The twin’s groaned in unison but my spines straightened.
“Will there be leopards?” I gushed, suddenly finding a new part of me. “Or tigers? Or lions? I want to see a big cat. Not that nonsense you see at shelters.”
He smiled in that funny, old way and we rose.
There were no cats. Yet as we pushed on, I grew more and more dazzled. The trees, massive column of life, protected me from the summer sun’s wrath. I loved them, along with the deep, brown dirt and the small birds that twittered above my head. I crawled on fallen trees and jumped into icy creeks and the world was so beautiful, I thought.
Soon, Michael and I were far ahead of the others. Maybe it was his crow's feet, but he never seemed to stop smiling and I never seemed to stop pestering him.
“Where are the animals? I haven't seen anything cool. You said these forests were filled with animals. Where are they? Where can we find them? What kind of animals are here?”
My excitement bled all over my mind. But as the day wore on, even my youthful hope began to die. There was nothing but dirt and leaves in that