The Surviving Game -- Chapter One

by Lucky in the bathroom. You gotta go when you gotta go! :P

A/N: Please read! I hope you like it...I love the ending...to explain why I said that, my teacher gave me some sentences to start forming a story. This story created an ending to a great story I started planning out today. I hope you enjoy it! A lot!

The Surviving Game

by Lucky

"Summer camp?"

My mouth was gaping open when I heard it.

"Yes, Tyler, summer camp. I think you should go out and get active, you know? Instead of playing video games with your door locked, curtains closed, and the lights off," my mom said. "You're fourteen, for Pete's Sake! You wouldn't believe how embarassing it is when you have company over."

I had to blush at that part. I always brought my best friend Jason over, who was really polite and never said anything at all. There was also Marcus, who would sometimes walk home with me and stay in for a little snack or a game of Halo. He was sort of rude, because most of the the time he would leave on his shoes and track in mud or dirt inside the house. "More to clean," my mom would add.

Sometimes Marcus would crack jokes. Really mean ones. I mean, sometimes I was a bully. There was this time where the teacher's pet Rodney Jensen tattled on me in second grade for chewing gum during glass and sneaking a comic book while our teacher taught the lesson. I had physical problems back then, so when it was recess I grabbed Rodney by the hair and dunked his head into the toilet, while my other pals laughed. Others just stared in awe. I was a lunatic back then, you gotta admit.

But Marcus was different. He would point at people in the library and say food names at them under his breath, like take one scene in the library for example:

A tall, dark-skinned African American girl walks by. Marcus starts to chortle. "That's chocolate bar, over there," he says. I frown. After the girl left, an Indian scans the bookshelf. He's a dark tan color, and has buck teeth.

"Oh, burnt roast beef!" he remarks, loud enough that the boy could hear. The boy seems to hear him, and walks away in disgust.

Marcus points to a very chubby kid and a skinny one. "The skinny one is noodle and the fat one is meatball. And OVERsized meatball!"

The chubby one stares at us, his eyes watering. Marcus just stands there, smiling proudly as if he won a million bucks.

Even I wouldn't do that. Some jokes you say hurt mentally, and that's way worse than a physical fight.

"I've heard that Chester Academy's camps are very nice," my mom continued.

I almost fell over.

"Chester Academy? Mom, you know how much that costs, right? About seven hundred bucks per person! How can you even get me in there? That school is for rich idiots who doesn't know what black-and-white television channels look like," I shot.

She looked dumbfounded for a second, there. Then she replied with this, "I've been keeping a savings for your college fund. I...think it's time to take some in. There's over five thousand in there now."

My mom sucked in her cheeks, sat down, and sighed.

Now it was my turn to look dumbfounded.