I’ve had this idea for a while, but it really came to life when I listened to a song called White Houses by Vanessa Carlton. It really inspired me to write, and I hope you like my idea (:
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I sat in the front seat of my mother’s station wagon. I must of looked incredibly cool, driving to summer camp, at thirteen years of age, in our outmoded, beaten up car. Not that I was worried about my image or anything, I just felt plain dumb.
My mother not only insisted that I go to a summer camp to “strenghten my social skills”, but she also insisted that she be the one to drop me off, probably so she could embarass me and what not.
Not only was I completly against the idea, but for once in my life, I was willing to act like a total and complete brat, just to get what I wanted. I was not one to throw big hissy fits. And I was definately not one to make a lot of friends.

But I wasn’t the only one who was in for a surprise.

Especially my daddy.

That was the summer that he actually used that old baseball bat.