He didn’t want to, but he had no choice; he had to take the
plunge. Johnny swallowed hard, his fingers trembling in the smoky morning
light. He was terrified of water.
Mr. Rogers stood at the side of the jetty, trying to keep
everyone calm and focused. He instructed the children to form a queue behind
Johnny. There was no way out of it now. It was his own fault. Johnny resisted
the urge to puke.
He hated this lake, and this camp. Everyone knew he did. And
now he was having to pay for that hatred.
When he’d poured out the gasoline he’d found behind Mr.
Franks hut, he hadn’t anticipated what would happen, he’d just wanted to see
the place burn. It hadn’t occurred to him that the only way out would be across
the lake, especially as he’d cut off all the other exits.
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@VanessaLester Jan 27 Poor Johnny learned a little more than he expected at camp. Great tale.
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