Lauren Horn

Fishing trip

It's midday and the sun is high in the sky. I'm running after my dad who is walking briskly to the lake. He is carrying all our fishing gear. I dropped our poles by the truck, and he didn't trust me to carry them after that. I'm always a disappointment. I don't know why he even wanted me to go on this fishing trip. We are out in the middle of nowhere in the heat with nothing but our truck, fishing gear, and a couple blankets. What a miserable few days are ahead of us. I don’t eat fish, much less have to survive on those nasty wriggling little creatures. What does he truly expect from me? I'm not my brother, I don't do nature. I guess he at least is trying so I should stop my complaining. Maybe mom is right and I'm an ungrateful little shit. She didn't know I was listening when she said it but it's hard not to overhear their arguments in our two-bedroom apartment. I can't wait for school to start so I can escape that toxic shithole. Most kids my age dread the beginning of school, but I can't wait to go back. Anything that gets me out of hell house is a blessing in my eyes.