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The Scream


A week of camping with fifty other kids from a church sounded like fun, especially when I heard we’d be doing activities such as white-water rafting, canoeing, bike riding, and laser tag. I never would have dreamed that only the first night we we’re there, something terrible would happen that I’d never, ever forget.
It was a dark night, the only light coming from the glowing remains of the fire we’d used to cook dinner. My friend, Michelle, and I were sitting at a picnic bench, eagerly waiting to hear what we’d be doing next.
“Ok, so we’ll be playing a game,” the camp instructor announced. “There will be two teams. One team will be looking for a person I select, who will be holding this.” The instructor showed us a flashlight. “He’s going to flash it every few minutes, so keep an eye out. The other team is going to try and stop you. If you get tagged, you’re out.”
We all lined up, and the camp instructor began walking around, assigning us teams. When he reached us, he pointed at Michelle and me and said, “You two will be on team one.” The rest of the group was also put on a team, and then the game began.
Michelle and I raced into the center of the field, scanning the row of trees surrounding us for a sign of a light, yet saw none. Suddenly dark figures hurried toward us. As they approached, I made out enough to know they were on the other team. Michelle and I ducked behind a tree and crouched there until they had passed.
And in that instant, as we both crouched silently in the midst of the trees, the horror of the night began with the sound of the first scream.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Maybe it’s just someone joking around,” Michelle offered. But the screaming continued.
We just sat there waiting and listening until at last I asked, “What do we do?” I could hear someone calling for help, and someone else shouting, “We need the leader now!” A group of people were heading toward the noise, while others ran away. We seemed to be lost in the commotion, unsure of what to do and where to go. As if by answer to my question, a boy suddenly ran up to us.
“We have to go back to our tent!” he exclaimed. “Now!”
“But why?” Michelle asked. “What happened?”
The boy shook his head. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, it sounds bad.”
Scared and worried, both Michelle and I hurried toward our tent. Inside I said, “I wonder what happened.”
“I know. I hope we find out soon,” Michelle replied.
However five minutes passed and still we knew nothing more. Then ten minutes went by. Every so often the silence was broken by a scream that sent chills down my spine. Another five minutes passed.
Ideas of what the noise could be raced through my mind. A murder? A wild animal attack? A kidnapping? The more I thought, the more scared I became. The darkness seemed to surround us everywhere. I could barely make out Michelle’s figure as she sat next to me.
Then, blue and red lights cut through the darkness, dancing outside of our tent in a dizzying spiral motion, accompanied by the squeal of a siren. The shouts of several men called somewhere in the distance, and more cries of pain echoed through the forest. Another five minutes, and then the siren seemed to fade, the lights disappearing again. And everything was quiet, peacefully still, eerily dark.
We sat there, not knowing what to do, until at last, first Michelle, and then I managed to drift off to sleep.
When I woke the next morning, Michelle and I climbed out of our tent to find a large crowd of other campers who were eager to hear the story of what had happened.
We all congregated toward the center of the camp where the leader stood.
“I guess you’re all wondering what happened last night,” he said.
A murmur ran through the crowd, and then everyone fell silent, gazes sweeping from face to face, searching for some clue to the incident.
“Where’s Zach?” someone suddenly asked. “He’s not here! Where is he?”
Another uproar arouse at this until the leader raised his hand for silence. Slowly the voices died down, and the leader spoke. “Zach’s at the hospital. He fell on a rod from a metal cooking grill that got lodged in his leg. He’s going to need surgery.”
We all stood there stunned until some from the crowd shouted, “Is there anything we could do?”
“Just pray,” he murmured.
The rest of the day passed as normally as possible until at last the leader received the phone call. Zach’s surgery was successful. He was going to be ok.
The group of kids surrounding me began to cheer, but I just stood there and smiled. Zach was going to be ok, and we still had five days left. “Maybe this week will still be fun,” I thought. All I knew for sure was that I would never forget that night – the night of the horrifying scream.

Imprint

Text: Kate Golya
Images: kfyrtv.com
Editing: Janice Kuze
Translation: None
Publication Date: 06-16-2012

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Thanks to Jared and Michelle for the fun time (after the first night). And thanks to Mrs. Bowman for putting up with me in 8th grade.

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