I have worked at summer camps in the past, so it was no great surprise that I was roped into group leading at the start of the dream. What was odd was that everyone insisted that I had done this particular camp before. What is more, I had been an all-star.
Now, this did not mean that I was skilled at corralling eighth graders and keeping them entertained and happy. It meant that during the Hunger Games-esque basketball game between group leaders, I had performed so miraculously well that no one else had ever dared to wear my jersey number, 105. Yet, despite the vivid descriptions they gave to me, and even pictures of me slam dunking in a neon orange uniform with the legendary number on it, I could not remember actually having done any of that. However, I let it go and chalked it up to coincidence.
On the first day of camp, I felt a bit flustered. I had only recently joined the program, so no one had fully explained where I was supposed to be and when. They didn't even tell me which group I had to lead. After a little guessing, I figured out that I had to lead the blue group comprised of eight or ten spunky little middle-schoolers wearing bright blue tees. They seemed to get along with me well enough, although one of them had a tendency to walk through walls if I took my eye off of him.
After the opening ceremonies, we sat with our groups and distributed the snacks, or more accurately, snack. You see, I was given one gigantic chocolate and prune cookie to divide among my campers. One of them, a small mousy boy, stared longingly at the fragment I offered him, but refused to take it. When I asked him why he didn't want it, he explained"I, um, oh that looks good, but....I'm a recovering plum addict." I let the subject drop.
Once the cookie was fully devoured, the real fun began. The activities director instructed us to head off to the simulation grounds. I had no idea what that meant, but whatever. I was getting good at pretending I had a clue. We arrived at a massive room filled with fake terrains of all types, rocky, hilly, wet, dry, etc. Each group was directed to a different starting station in the complex and told to do whatever the leaders decided. All I could think of was to try and get out of our zone, a mountainous, cliff-like territory, into the next zone over full of streams and lush vegetation.
As we started, some members of the group went out of bounds onto the ordinary concrete floor of the room. A referee came promptly and kicked those members out of the complex, saying that they had left the simulation and could not return. He then handed me a manila folder full of plot details and maps, which I had to use to guide the game, revealing as little to my group as possible. I leafed through the instructions and saw that they did indeed need to get to the next zone, but that the way would be blocked by simulated monsters we would have to defeat. Simple enough, right?
While the group goes on, more and more people manage to drop out. I couldn't tell how though. Some seemed to simply lose interest in everything. They refused to move and just lay down, so we had to keep going. The referee would reappear from time to time, pointing out that I'd lost group members, simultaneously approving and condemning me, but of what I did not know.
Finally, only two members remained, but we had gotten to the cliff top and were ready to cross the boundary. I consulted the notes. And saw that signs of the monster included wind. Every the subtle one, I pretended to sneeze as the wind picked up, remarking, "All this pollen is being kicked up by the wind. I wonder what could be causing this wind. Maybe we should pay attention to the wind." Amazingly, the two campers picked up the hint and started to look around. Seconds later, a three headed Blue Eyes White Dragon flew down upon us. It looked like a hologram, but there was nothing holographic about the white lightning it used to fry the first camper.
At that moment, I was not afraid, nor angry, nor sad. I was simply annoyed that this punk dragon was getting in the way of my job as group leader. I had no choice but to charge in, readying my wooden shield and sword I'd inexplicably acquired. The surviving camper took cover while I swung wildly at the monster. I managed to cut of a head, and for a moment, the hologram faded out. Seconds later though, it reappeared, this time with just two heads. Well, I thought, at least it's not a hydra. Before the referee could come in and accuse me of cheating by one remaining group member, I woke up.
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