It was on the third day, Friday, that my friend Ken’s body washed up on the lake. So, I faked a melt down and they took me to the counselor. She assured me, with an extremely fake smile, that this was all a joke. You know, some people can lie really good.
Then I actually did have a meltdown. I went to my bunk and there was a note. “Meet me. At the lake. East side. 12:00 midnight.” Ken. I was wrong. Maybe it was a joke. Just maybe. I set an alarm on my phone. It would vibrate at five of midnight.
I used my backlit compass to find the east side. I found it, and sat down for a while. I heard something behind me, I turned around, and was knocked unconscious by someone with a baseball bat.