After I finished my school work, I heard an announcement on the intercom that connects to everybody's room.
"Attention all campers!" Camp leader, Sasha, announced,
"If your last name begins with a letter Q-Z, please meet with your appointed guidance counselor, immediately." My last name is Quincy, so I shut the MacBook and brought it back to the computer room, and then I took myself down 6 flights of stairs so I could get back to the ground level. I looked to my left and saw the empty cafeteria, which was full two hours ago when I escaped because everyone was staring at me and boys were being bothersome. I started for the revolving doors, but then I stopped suddenly.
     I examined the whole foyer, realizing I never took the time to look around this place. It had a green tile floor and white painted walls. The entrance to the cafeteria had a white archway that appeared to be around eight feet long or so, and it was directly across the revolving door. There was a giant trophy case right by the cafeteria entrance that contained medals, trophies, and plaques for being, "the best therapy camp in the nation". There were also a bunch of various paintings made by previous participants of this camp on the walls. The whole room is actually huge, probably the size of half a football field. It is a very beautiful room.
     Briefly forgetting where I was supposed to go, I dashed out the doors and went across the rest of the building to get to my counselor.
I knocked on Ms. Wilkinson's door, and she greeted me with a warm welcome. I've only been here once before, and that's when I first came here six months ago. I observed the tiny room, which had beige walls, and white carpet. I sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair and asked why I was supposed to come.
"Here is your daily schedule, honey!" She handed me a little white paper.
"But, we've never had a schedule." I told her, confused.
"Well, now you all do." She got an attitude.
"We used to come and do all of these things as we pleased." I didn't know what was going on.
"We noticed some people were never coming to counseling, doing school work, and even skipping meals. We assigned these scheduled to make sure everybody does what they're supposed to do."
Seriously?
"But how will you guys know that we're doing school work, or something else important, when we could be watching TV in our rooms?" I was expecting that she wouldn't have an answer.
"We will have security cameras in everybody's rooms and hallways, so you guys will have to change your clothes and do other personal business in the restrooms." She glared at me.
"Also, Alana, there will be no more hanging out with the opposite gender in each other's rooms!" She raised her bushy left eyebrow.
I felt awkward. Does she know about what Jacob and I did? Will I be able to hang out with him?
"But, Ms. Wilkinson," I was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Okay Alana, that's probably someone else waiting for their schedule. These will take effect tomorrow. Everybody's schedule is different, you know." I nodded, and exited the room.
As I was walking, I took a peek at my schedule:
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Monday-Friday:
8:30-9:30; Breakfast & Social
9:35-12:00; Online School
12:05-12:30; Counselor
12:35-1:00; Freetime
1:05-1:35; Lunch & Social
1:35-1:55; Check In With Your Nurse (every other day)
2:00-2:25; Physical Activity (Only Mon., Wed., and Fri., Tues. & Thurs. It's free time)
2:30-7:30; Free Time
7:30-8:15; Dinner
8:15-9:30; Social Activities Hosted by Camp Leader (Optional)
9:30-10:00; Free time
10:00; Turn to Your Room For the Night

Weekends: Food times are still same, but everything else is free time. Counseling and Nurse visits are open for your convenience if you need to go. :)
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"PHYSICAL ACTIVITY!?" I stopped walking and yelled out loud. People that happened to be passing by stopped and stared. Feeling embarrassed, I sprinted to my room. I simply don't do physical activity. It's not my forte. I plopped face-down on my bed and sighed in annoyance.
All the sudden, there was a knock on my door. I dragged myself out of my microscopic bed and looked through the peephole. Sure enough, it was...