We were cornered.

And it was partly my fault. I had told her to go that way and I had gone this way, and now we were cornered.

You’re prob’ly wondering what I’m talking about. Here, I’ll fill you in.

When I was in camp, six or seven years ago, I was about ten. I was having a war going on. Now, this camp had about sixty boys and ten girls who were old enough to ‘play’ outside together. Now, the teachers had no clue what was going on.

But we did. I had a rival, named Scott. We were enemies, and we always fought.

I like my nails long, right now they’re about 1 centimeter longer than my finger. They were about as long then, and twice as sharp. Scott tackled me, and I spun ‘round and clawed him. He was most hated.

Now, fast forward. I gave him a scratch from his collar-bone to about an inch from there. I could see it for a month before it fully faded.

Anyway, my freind and I ran down seperate corners of the fence, and ended up cornered. A circle of boys surrounded us. Trapped, we were. Well…