Summer Camp with the Druids – Prologue

Prologue

 

I groaned. It had been awhile since I’ve been here, and I didn’t miss it. The last thing my mom told me before she died was my name. She told me my name here. This place. When I was six. 

 

Anne McBelle.

 

Soon after her death, my father became unsafe to be around. I was moved to the local orphanage. And then, onto another, and another. The countless orphanages I was kicked out of reminded me or something that stood out to everyone else.

 

I was definitely. Not. Normal. 

 

“Hello.” A soft voice called, and I was pulled quickly back into reality. I turned around, and a late teen with long black hair, pale skin, and piercing green eyes. She was astride a restless pegasus that couldn’t stand still. 

 

“Oh, it’s just you, Anja.” 

 

“I thought you would be happier to see me than that.” Anja admitted, her eyebrows furrowing. 

 

“I know, it’s just-” 

 

“Nevermind that, I’ll show you to your cabin.” 

 

As I followed her to Cabin 3, I felt glares hot on my back. Almost unconsciously, I looked down at my right hand. 

 

I don’t remember how I got the scar, but I remembered a searing, burning pain, and when the world came back to focus, I had a scar, shaped like swirling vines. 

 

Pulling my sleeve over my hand, I walked with my head down. Anja had dismounted and opened the door to the cabin. Inside, it was quiet, for all of the kids in the cabin were busying themselves with something. A few of them were sleeping, but most of them were at a work table. Many were working with plants, some were making materialistic items.

 

“Campfire tonight, don’t miss it.” Anja said, closing the door behind her. “Wait!” I called, but she had already left. 

 

I sighed. Flopping down onto the closest bunk, I closed my eyes, imagining that I was back on my family’s tree farm, exploring the untouched miles of freedom. Me and my dog, Champ. Me and him would spend days outside. 

 

He’d chase ducks away, bark at squirrels, and whine and paw when my mom told me he couldn’t sleep on the foot of my bed. 

 

It was Champ I missed most. I missed freedom. I missed just being the ‘girl with the cute collie dog’. I didn’t want to be ‘earth guardian’ or whatever. 

 

When I rolled out of bed again, it was time for the bonfire. I groaned. Sometimes, I wanted nothing to do with this stuff. And this was one of those times.

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