Violet Johnson stared up at the suspiciously tilted, wood paneled exterior of Cabin Eight. Taking a deep breath, and nodding to her parents, who stood on either side of her like melancholy bodyguards, Violet opened the screen door.

It was shockingly lightweight, so the enthusiasm with which Violet opened the door caused it to practically fly off its hinges. It was stopped by the railing of the stairs and slammed forcefully against it, seeming to reverberate throughout the entire atmosphere surrounding the cabin. Violet winced as the bustling noise inside of Cabin Eight came to a screeching halt. Without even looking in a mirror, she could already tell her blonde curls were forming a halo in the Michigan humidity.

“Hi everyone!” Violet exclaimed, practically dragging her parents behind her. 

“I’m Violet!”

    The other girls looked at each other as Violet’s smile started to hurt her cheeks. They all had coordinated bedspreads, posters hanging up, there were even a couple of girls already on the ground making friendship bracelets. 

    “I’m so happy to be here!” She continued, suddenly hyper aware of the blue plastic IKEA tote and moth-eaten gray suitcase in tow behind her father. 

    A girl glanced up from her bed and looked Violet up and down. She snorted. “You sure you’re at the right camp?” Some of the other girls smirked and raised their eyebrows.

    Violet’s smile faltered, but just for a moment.

    “Yep! Camp Sana. Did you know Sana is actually the Latin word for “heal”? Pretty fitting considering why we’re all here. It’s so great that we all already have something in common, right? I mean, hello, awkward reveals out of the way, only room for icebreakers now!” Violet laughed and found herself tucking her belongings into the bottom bunk in the back corner of the cabin. “I mean, not that icebreakers are fun for everyone. I really like icebreakers, but not everybody does! It’s really an individual thing, if you look at it. But they are a great way to-“

    Violet’s mother’s hand gently touched her shoulder. Violet turned around, her words fading in her mouth. “...get to know each other.”

    It was only then that Violet had a chance to look around the room. All of the girls were staring it her, eyebrows arched, nose scrunched in confusion, one girl’s mouth was even agape. 

    “Sorry,” she whispered, feeling herself get incrementally smaller. 

    “Violet,” her father said under his breath. “You have to remember...w-why you’re here. Why everyone is here.”

    Violet bit her lip. Yeah. There wasn’t really much escaping that. 

    “I know everyone copes in different ways and...well, you have your own way of coping,” her mother said it like it was a bad thing. “But there are very few people out there who deal with these kinds of things like you.”

    “And it’s the first day,” her father cut in. “Just...hold back a little. At least until...well, just hold back a little.”

    Violet slumped onto her bed and fiddled with one of her two braids, trying to tuck the unruly curls back into place. “Yeah, no, I get it,” she shrugged.

    “Okay,” her father huffed as he hoisted the suitcase onto her bunk. “We just want you to know that while you’re here, doing the...work that you’re doing, your mother and I will be doing some work, too.”

    Violet’s mother nodded. “And you’ll write?” She pressed Violet, as if she hadn’t insisted on packing a roll of 100 stamps and 2 stationery sets.

    “Of course,” Violet smiled with half of the enthusiasm she had all morning, but it wasn’t like her mother was apt to notice these days. 

    “Alright, well,” the car keys jangled in her father’s hand. “Call us if you need us, and we’ll see you in a couple of months!”

    “Well, I’ll see you on Visiting Day, right?” Violet twisted her mouth, worried about what her father might say.

    Her parents glanced at each other, exchanging silent words in a language Violet didn’t understand. 

    “W- um, sure,” Violet’s mother nodded. “Visiting day.”

    “Okay,” Violet perked up a bit. “I love you both!”

    “Bye, Violet,” her father said. 

    “Can’t wait to hear from you,” her mother smiled, and in seconds, her parents were gone. 

    The emptiness of the unreciprocated “I love you” hung in the air around Violet before she shook her head as if clearing the air, stood up, and promptly knocked herself on the forehead on the underside of the top bunk. 

    It was only then that she noticed the other girls had quickly gathered around her bed. 

    “H-hi!” Violet smiled as she rubbed her forehead where she’d smacked it.

    “Violet, was it?” One of the girls drawled. She had thick, dark eyeliner smudged under her eyes, and had a perpetually raised eyebrows, as if she was constantly judging someone. 

    “Yep!” Violet bounced on the balls of her feet. “What’s your name?”

    “Dani,” the girl smacked her gum. “We just want to let you know that your vibe?” She gestured her arms widely at...well, all of Violet. “Not really matching the tone of this whole camp, you know?”

    “Yeah, the cabin for the more flamboyant type is across the way,” a girl with a messy bun and oversized sweatshirt jutted her hip as she spoke. “You sure you don’t want to switch? I’m sure it’s not too late to ask the camp director,” Her not-so-subtle reference to Cabin Ten, designated for queer campers, brought out snickers from the other girls crowded around Violet’s bunk.

    Violet’s cheeks flushed a deep red. “We all cope in different ways,” she shrugged, hoping to reason with them.

    “Yeah, well nobody quite like you,” Dani cut back in. “So kindly shut the hell up and let the rest of us do what we need to do. Having a literal goddamn ray of sunshine is a little too much for me to deal with right now, ‘k?” The tone with which she said the words mocked Violet’s constantly upbeat demeanor. Violet shrunk some more as the other girls snickered again, and dissipated back to their bunks. 

    “Okay, Cabin Eight!” An older girl walked in, maybe in her mid twenties. “I’m Beth, one of the camp leads for your cabin! I’ll be taking you around to activities and group therapy sessions, at least until you get familiarized...” She started to go on a spiel, but Violet was only half listening, more preoccupied with the words of the girls from moments ago.

    Violet whispered again to herself, “We all cope in different ways.” 

    She reached into her shirt, feeling the warm chain, slightly damp with sweat, tickle the back of her neck and send a shiver down her spine. She unclamped the heart-shaped pendant and looked inside.

    Her dead brother stared back at her.