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>The camp is closed
>It was shut down after a series of gay sex incidents among the campers as well as a case of grand theft auto
>The road into camp is covered in no trespassing signs, and even though it's unploughed, suggesting it is abandoned, the neighbors' roads are not
>You drive to the other side of the lake, down a driveway where a bunch of summer cabins and burned out clearings lie
>You begin walking across the lake, knee high in snow
>Every couple minutes or so you sit down, take a breath, take a drink
>After an hour you make landfall.
>The place looks exactly like it did 13 years ago
>Every building is locked with a padlock, except for the girls' showers. It's the only time you've ever gotten to go in there, having peeked through the windows as a 10-year-old, trying to catch a glimpse of a tit
>Even the outhouse is boarded up
>No sounds but the creaking of trees, and the rushing brown water coming through the drown
>You wonder if it still tastes like blood
>At first there are no other footprints
>As you get closer to the woods, you begin to see them. Human or not, you are not alone.
>You make your way through the woods and back to the shore. You walk across the ice onto a small island and rest there, taking a look at the place one more time
>It's the same, and yet it never will be
