• Roxy
    “Survival Camp?” I ask. I press the phone closer to my ear, hoping I heard wrong.
    “Yes. Survival Camp. It’ll do you good,” my aunt says from on the line. If you’re just coming in the middle of this, I’ll try to get you caught up. I’m Roxanne, but I prefer Roxy. My aunt wants me to go to some survival camp in the middle of nowhere to “make friends”. I have friends, she just doesn’t know them. I sigh; I can’t argue with my aunt. When she gets going, the real Italian comes out.
    “I already signed you up,” she says proudly like she just got a medal from the President.
    “Fine, I’ll go,” I sigh; at least I can get some sketches in. I might not have told you, but I’m an art major at some fancy smanchy college you’re probably never heard of. That’s trivial information anyways. I scribble down the information that my aunt tells me and hang up. I throw my cell onto my bed through the open door and sit down at the table. I stare at the piece of paper with the information on it and contemplate on crumpling it up. I put my elbows on the table and put my head in my hands. As I run my hands through my dyed-red hair, my roommate opens the door.
    “Hey Roxy! You wouldn’t believe…. Are you okay?” she asks concerned. She sits down next to me. I hand her the piece of paper and slouch into the wooden chair.
    “Survival Camp,” she reads. She looks up at me and gives me a pouty face.
    “That sucks. How long is it?” she asks trying not to laugh.
    “Six weeks,” I mumble. She starts to laugh and I stand up quickly.
    “Oh come on! I’m just kidding,” she says trying to stop laughing. I get to my bedroom and slam the door. I pick up my cell from my bed and put it on the nightstand.
    “Come out please. I’m sorry,” I hear her say from the other side of the door. I ignore her and open my closet. I get on my tiptoes to reach the top shelf. While pulling down my suitcase, an avalanche of forgotten items falls off the shelf and onto the floor. I hear glass shatter and swear under my breath. Bending down, I turn over the broken picture frame. I straighten up and go to sit on my bed. The picture was of my family, right before mom died. I brush away the broken glass still stuck in the frame carefully and pull out the picture; we looked so happy. It was my first day of 6th grade. Dad has me on his shoulders while Mom hugs him. I was leaning over and hugging mom’s head, the only thing within reach. My little brother, Rodger, was grabbing Mom’s jacket. Rodger is a few years younger than me. Rodger and I never really understood why she died; Dad never explained it to us. Maybe because he disappeared a few weeks after she died. What happened to us? We were such a happy family. It was all thrown out of whack so fast. I start to cry a little and I lay back onto my bed. I hug the picture and cry a little harder. What happened?

    Alexander

    I jogged up the path -- a little faster than usual. There was no real reason for the brisker pace or maybe there was. Today is the anniversary of my friend’s death. I don’t like to talk about it, but running gets my mind off of the gruesome thoughts. I reach the summit of the hill and stop, looking out at the New York City sky line. It really was beautiful, contrary to a lot of other people’s opinions. Looking at the sky line, I start to think of my childhood. It was pretty normal to anyone who was a casual observer. My problems were deep, not usually seen right away by the untrained eye. I went into the Marines right after graduating from MIT with a degree in Mechanical Engineering. I trained with the best for about two years. When I was twenty four, I made the hard decision to desert the Marines when I was ordered to kill innocent civilians. That was the last straw for me. I left as soon as I could and dropped off the grid. I haven’t lived anywhere permanently for more than three weeks. A gust of wind pulled me away from my thoughts. Trash creates a miniature tornado next to me. One piece of paper catches my eye. I grab it before it’s carried by the strong wind.
    “Survival Camp,” I mutter reading the headline. The Camp was in this place called Mashomack Preserve on Long Island. I started back towards my camp. It couldn’t hurt to go. Right?

    Cavern

    “Hurry up! We’re going to be behind schedule,” my mom yells up the stairs.
    “I’m coming,” I yell back. I pull my glove up over my rock-covered arm and zip my suitcase up. Looking in the mirror, I smooth my hair down a little and check to see if I still had my earrings in. They’re very important to me so I don’t want to lose them. They have sandstones in them. It was one of the only things I took from my first home. You might be wondering about the rock-covered arm and if that’s normal. Well, it is for me. For some reason, I can morph into rocks or precious stones to protect myself. As you can probably tell, I haven’t had a lot of friends. It’s been hard (ignore the horrible pun) living with this “disease”. When I was younger, my sisters and I were cursed by a horrible man who then killed my parents. No, not these parents, but my birth parents. My sisters are gone now, and I’ve made it my goal to find my sisters and find the man who killed my parents.
    “Hurry up,” my mom yells up the stairs again. I run out of my room and shut the door behind me. Edgar, my pet bat, flies off the rafters and onto my right shoulder. Yes, I have a pet bat. What did you expect? My name is Cavern!?
    “Yes you can come with me,” I say to Edgar. He squeaks in joy and shuffles closer to my head. I smile and pat his head. I jump off the last step and almost fly into my dad.
    “Are you ready for Survival Camp hon?” he asks hugging me. I smile at him and nod. Survival camp will help me defeat the man who killed my parents. Will it turn out the way I want it to?

    Scorpion

    Wiping my mouth, I sit down against the cold brick wall. It’s been so long since I’ve killed anyone. Maybe I should change that. I pick up the piece of paper next to me.
    “Survival Camp huh? I’ll give them something to survive.”

    Jerry

    I put my cell down, smiling. Jessica had agreed to go out with me. I’m a pretty average guy, nothing really great to say about me. However, I’m pretty good with the ladies. Well, on that note, Jessica is going to be away at some survival camp for a little while. I of course said that I would go with her. I know I won’t have a lot of time to study, but I’ll bring my anatomy textbook anyway. If all else fails, I can use it as a weapon. Just kidding….or am I? In a way, it already has been used as a weapon – to tear my family apart. When I told my parents that I wanted to be in the medical field, I was immediately disowned. My father is from a long line of lawyers and wanted to keep the profession in the family. That’s when I took off. I haven’t seen my parents, or any of my family for that matter, since. That doesn’t matter though. What really matters is that I get to be with Jessica for six weeks on an island. What could happen?