I was going to be sick.

“It’s not so bad once we get past these potholes!” yelled my dad over the rattling of the truck. “Probably should get someone to fix them.”

I didn’t dare reply, because more than words would come out of my mouth. My hand was pressed to the ceiling, while the other gripped the door handle.

“I guess we should have remembered your medicine,” my father chuckled. “I forgot the road was in this bad of condition.”

The truck slammed into a large divot, and I was thrown into the dashboard. My hand went straight to my mouth. My dad slammed on the brakes, giving me just enough time to fling open the door and dive out of the vehicle. I was gasping for air as I squatted above a pile of vomit.

“You lasted longer than I expected.” My dad appeared at my side with a bottle of water.

I snatched it from him and twisted off the lid. I washed out my mouth and slowly stood. My stomach was still turning.

“Well, at least you feel better now.” He slapped me on the back.

I wiped my mouth with my jacket sleeve. “And you wonder why I hate camping.” I took a drink of water. “I get sick every time, because of these stupid roads.”

“I’ll call your mom and tell her to meet me at the junction with your meds.”

“You couldn’t have thought of that before,” I muttered. “I thought we were going to a campground. Not the back woods on some beaten up old road.”

My dad smiled. “It’s not that bad. I know quite a few worse actually. We just need someone to come dump some dirt on it. The frost just roughened it up a bit.” He walked around to the other side of the truck. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m not getting back in there. That thing is a death trap.” I took another drink of water.

“We’re building character. One day you’re going to look back at this and laugh.”

“That’s not today,” I stated. “I’ll walk. There’s less chance of me puking again.”

My dad stood on the foot railing and looked over the truck. “You sure? It’s still a ways.”

“I’m not getting back in there.”

“Alright, stay on the road. Watch out for cars and ATVs.” He pointed up the road. “You’re going to walk around that bend up there, and you’ll see the lake. There are a couple of paths that cut down by the shoreline to the campground. Alright?”

I nodded. “I’ll hurry.”

“Don’t wander off and get yourself lost, Aden.”

“I’m not five, dad. I think I can handle it.”

“Still,” he breathed. “Be careful.”

“Dad, I’m fine. Just go.”

“Alright.” He climbed into the truck, and with a wave, started down the road.

I watched for a minute as his head bounced around and felt my stomach turn. There was no doubt in my mind that I would’ve thrown up again.

After finishing off the water bottle, I started down the path. It had rained recently and all the potholes were filled with mud, so at least there wasn’t any dust. It was kind of nice outside. It wasn’t too hot, but the bugs were starting to swarm. I flipped my hood up and zipped my jacket to my chin.

I heard engines behind me and hurried out of the middle of the road. Two teenagers zipped by on four-wheelers. Shoving my hands in my pocket, I continued on.

Something flashed in the corner of my eye. I froze and scanned the surrounding trees. Another reason why I hated the woods, too many places for man-eating creatures to hide. I should have stayed with my dad.

A large dark form zipped through the trees and stopped in the shadows. My breath hitched when I recognized the outline. Canine, that’s all I need to know.

I broke into a run.

I glanced over at the trees to see if was chasing me. This was it. I was going to be eaten by some monster on my very first day.

My heart was pounding. Approaching the bend in the road, I prayed the lake was just on the other side. I turned the corner and was thrown face first to the ground by an upturn root. Groaning, I felt water seep into my jacket sleeve. The entire left side of my body had landed in a puddle.

Voices sounded ahead from the two boys on the four wheelers. They were calling for someone. I heard footsteps behind me and covered my head. The dog jumped over me and ran to his owners. I sat up and just glared at them.

A dog. A stupid dog, and now I was wet, the mosquitoes were attacking me, and the lake was nowhere in sight.

That settled it, my life sucked, and the universe hated me.

Climbing to my feet, I took off my jacket. “This is unbelievable.” I wrung out the water. A small portion of my pants were wet too, but my shirt was dry.

My mood was getting worse with every step. I better be getting paid more than minimum wage to do this. I trudged along, and finally, the lake appeared ahead. As much fun as I was having, I wanted to finish, so I could go home.

I found the trail my dad had mentioned and slid down the hillside to the dirt trail below. While dusting off my pants, I notice a rip forming along my knee. My mom was going to kill me. She had told me not to wear nice clothes, and I had just ripped a hole in my good pair of jeans. But by this point, I didn’t caring. If there was something that could go wrong, it would. It was just one of those days.

As I walked along the edge of the lake, the grass became higher. It parted at a sand bank. I was covered in mud, so I walked over to a larger rock and took off my shoes. I stepped into the water to find out that it was freezing. Bending down, I quickly washed off my arms and splashed some water on my face.

The grass rustled nearby, and I shot up straight. The noise stopped.

“Dad?” There wasn’t a reply, so I slowly went back to washing off.

A branch snapped.

“Dad? This isn’t funny.”

No reply. I waded out of the water and climbed on top of the rock. I looked around, but couldn’t see anyone around. With a deep breath, I sat down and patted my feet dry. It was probably some small animal running around in the grass.

As soon as my feet were dry, I wedged them into my shoes. With my wet jacket tossed over my shoulder, I went back to the trail.

The grass rustled behind me. I stop and glanced over my shoulder. Something bigger than a squirrel was hiding out there.

“Aden.”

I jumped when a hand landed on my shoulder. My dad grabbed my arm before I fell.

“Dad,” I breathed. “A little warning maybe.”

He just laughed. “I thought you heard me. I’ve been calling your name for a while. I figured you stopped by the lake to have a look.” He scanned my appearance. “What happened to you?”

My shoulders dropped, and I couldn’t look at him. “A dog,” I whispered. “I kind of panicked and well,” I looked down at my clothes, “yeah.”

“Your mother isn’t going to be happy.” He put his arm around my shoulder and led me toward the campground.

“I know.” I looked back, but saw nothing. Maybe it was just my imagination.

My dad squeezed me against his side. “Well, let’s hurry up and get to the campground, and I’ll show you what you have to do.”

He led me up an embankment to a cement building with vents along the roof. My dad pushed open the bathroom door, and the smell of rotting sewage hit me.

I covered my mouth. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Flies were buzzing around inside, and a strand of toilet paper dangled over the seat.

“Everything you need is in the shed across the road. There’s a hand pump over there. Mop it, and be sure to wipe everything down. Fill up the toilet paper container, and you’re good.” He flashed me an over-exaggerated smile.

“This is disgusting.”

“It’s not that bad, Aden. There are five of these, and I want them all cleaned.” He let the door swing shut and walked back to his truck.

“Yes sir,” I muttered, following behind him.

“After you’re done with the bathrooms, get a garbage bag and walk around the lake and pick up any trash you see. Also if a campground is empty, clean out the fire pit. People are always leaving cans in them.” He opened the truck door and slid inside. “They haven’t figured out yet that they don’t burn.” The engine started up, and my dad rolled down the window. “I can trust you not to mess around and actually work.”

“Yes, dad,” I breathed. “Your toilets will be cleaned by the time you get back.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. I’ll pick you up at four.” He dropped a keyring in my hand. After putting on his sunglasses, he shifted the truck into reverse. “Be good and don’t wander off.”

“I’m not five,” I stated. “I can handle it.”

“Good to hear.” He looked over his shoulder and pulled out of the parking spot.

I watched him leave, before trudging over to the shed and grabbing a bucket and mop. Dragging everything over to the pump, I filled the bucket with water and hauled it to the first restroom. The stench was horrible.

Holding my shirt up to my nose, I entered the wasteland.

I really hated my life.