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Nightmare.  

Member rating: No Rating | Words: | Submitted: Tue Aug 19 2003

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The cold wind was blustering through the branches of the huge oak tree casting a shadow over the bleak body that lay at the base of the room. As the death of the boy was laughed at by the group because they thought it was a joke. The group lighted as he writhed violently. He was a very clever, chubby boy who lay on his bed, with the tearstains that were still wet. I stared out of the dusty window as the camp bus bounced over the narrow, winding road. Stumpy white trees lined the road like fence posts. We were well into the wilderness. We had not passed houses or farms for hours. The bus seats were made of hard black plastic. When the bus hit a bump, we all bounced off our seats. Everyone laughed and shouted. There were twenty-four children going to the camp on the bus, many...

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