Camping - - by Anna Nelson, 10th Grade

My parents were happy with each other at once. They can’t be in the same room anymore. Things started getting bad before I can even remember. All I know about anything that far back is what I’ve been told.
I don’t remember them fighting, but Dad says they would argue at least once a day, but they wouldn’t let us see it.
The furthest back I can remember is when I was about four. I was staring out a window in a boring, old yellow table. I was seated at a circular table, gazing at the horrifying storm outside. Fearing the thunder, and wondering if my dad would ever come back.
They say he left early one morning before work and came home to an empty house by the end of the week. I think that’s when my younger sister and I went to live with our mothers parents in Texas. I don’t know.
When I came home, to live with my mom again, we were all staying in a tiny car with my mom, brother, three sisters, and my dad’s best friend.
I’m not sure how long we lived like that, moving from campsite to campsite, but it wasn’t good. On the plus side, there were a ton of wild berries growing everywhere, so when we got hungry, we could usually collect those. It’s funny what a person will remember. We didn’t eat much. My mom and that guy would order a pizza and leave us the crusts, but it was better than nothing so we were grateful. Sometimes wed meet people. Just those ones who go camping practically every month, even when the ground is covered with ice. That’s what our mom called what we did. We camped. Anyway, those people would come and say hi a lot. They were nice and they’d give us things. It wasn’t a big deal to them, and by the way, by “give us things,” I don’t mean wed get a new computer and a jaguar every time we saw them, just little things. Like gum or donuts. They didn’t mind any, but to us, it was like Christmas morning. My little sister, who was about two at the time, gave them all names based on what they gave. I remember the “Gum Guy.” My younger sister couldn’t talk very well, so she didn’t say the “gum” part clearly so the Gum Guy thought she was calling him the “dumb” guy the whole time.
Our mom was very strict about manners. If we forgot a “thank you” shed be mad. If we forgot to say sir or ma’am, when addressing our elders, she’d get that man to swat at us with a stick. That went on for maybe eight months. I don’t know exactly how long.
Things were worst for my youngest sister. She was just a baby at the time. At least she can’t remember any of it. She spent every minute of every day in a car seat that was way too small for her. She only had her diaper changed once every two days if she was lucky. Also my younger sister had gotten a hold of some raw eggs she thought would make good toys and she cracked them all over the back seat of the car. After about a week, our home had been infested with maggots.
After spending all the time in her car seat, her legs had been deformed to match the shape of the seat and her head had flattened in the back.


[teacher's note - - I absolutely love the first line of this story: Nostalgia, heartbreak, history and acceptance, all bound up in a voice whispered directly into the reader's waiting ear. Awesome!]