As I grew up as a kid I never had any dangerous or really scary encounters. I thought I was invincible and nothing bad would ever happen to me. When I was ten years old my family and I went on a magnificent camping trip, or so I thought it was going to be. The place we were going to camp at was by the Cannonball River. It was the last one of summer before school started again. We had planned to fish, roast marsh mellows, and have a fire every night.
It started out on a Friday. We were planning to leave once I was done with school that day. Jumping ahead, so once school was over my parents picked me up outside of the school building and we began our drive to the campground. As we were driving we had stopped in a town to fill up for gas for our truck, I asked my mom, “Can I ride in the camper the rest of the way there?”
She replied with a smile, “Yes you can, but you have to sit down and you can’t run around while were driving.”
I said back, “Thank you so much mom, I have always wanted to try this, but I have never had the chance.”
So I got into the camper and we hit the road again. As we continued our drive to the campground I had decided to sit on the soft, plush queen size bed in the camper where my parents slept. While sitting there oh so comfortably I played with my toys for what seemed like days. I had decided that sitting on the bed beat sitting in the truck any day any time. After a while I ended up falling asleep on the bed. When I awoke, which was two hours later I found out, we had arrived at the campground and were looking for our designated spot for our camper. After we found our spot and had begun the long treacherous process of unloading everything from the back of the pickup and unhitching the camper from the truck too. After that was all done my mom had went inside the camper and had begun unloading and organizing everything inside the camper for the remainder of the long...
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