Personal Narrative: Middle School

Every summer break, I dreaded summers final days as though it was the plague or some kind of virus. It marked the end of a time of laughter, friends and fun. I can remember sitting on my porch, scarfing down a juicy watermelon with many other kids my age. There was laughter and joy that filled this moment. Afterwards, we would get on our bikes and ride to the nearest friend’s home, hoping to find more summer activities to satisfy our summer time thirst for fun. But upon summer time coming to a close, the result was all kids my age having to return once again to the life sucking place known as middle school. But even middle school is known for being one of the most dreadful times in someone’s teen years, I have a place that my younger self would
My Mom then pick it up and began talking to the person on the other end. After a minute or two, she opened the door to my room and reached out the phone to me and said “It’s your scout master Adam, something about summer camp?” I have been involved in Scouts since the beginning of my fourth-grade year in elementary school. Over the last three years, I have finger painted pictures, carved wood, tied rope and weaved baskets all so that I could get the allusive merit badges they dangled in front of our heads. I remember always giving scouts the cold shoulder, feeling this resentment toward the whole entire program. The only think I thought scouts did, for me in my mind, was pull me away from having fun in life! I wanted to sit on a porch with my friends eating sugary food. I wanted to play video games tell dusk with no interruptions. I wanted to ride my bike around the neighborhood and shoot birds with my slingshot. But no, instead, Boy Scouts put a screeching halt to all my summer plans. I was quite surprised to hear my mother say it was him as I took the phone from her. “Of all people, I said, why would he want to talk to me about camp? After all, we just had our Boy Scout meeting yesterday, why call today?” As I answered it with the faintest hello, knowing that whatever he said would probably be disastrous for my summer. My scout master replied with his booming voice, and it then overtook my ears for the next five dreadful minutes. Frankly, I don’t remember much of what we discussed after the first few seconds of our conversation, mainly because I was not prepared for what he had to say. His words sent a chill inducing spark down my spine, so much so that I remember my heart sinking down into my stomach, along with every other innards contained in my body. He said “Hi Adam, So have you signed up for Summer Camp? I