Darren Cross' Bunk

Home sweet home, or rather Cabin sweet Cabin. Darren walked into the Nike Cabin and found his way over to his bunk, it was two bunks over from the basketball net hanging on the wall and so he of course when resting at his bunk would attempt to shoot baskets. But today there was no time to dilly dally, he wasn’t sure why but Darren felt even more amped about today than he usually did and that was something considering he had been at the camp for two years now and wasn’t really sure anything else this place could throw at him would really surprise him anymore.

Having come back from the showers Darren shook his head one last time before throwing his towel down on top of his bed, where he then of course flopped down next to it. Looking around his bunk the shirtless Australian who was wearing only a pair of orange swim trunks observed his bed. His Camp shirt was hanging off the edge of the headboard, his sheets were properly made and besides the impression he had just made by lying down his bead was relatively neat. The area around the bed wasn’t too dirty either as it was hard to make a mess of things when you only owned a t-shirt, a couple pair of shorts and one hoodie. Scratching the side of his head Darren jumped back up on to his feet ready to go.

Where he was off to go he didn’t have a clue but he was damn sure he’d figure it out eventually or on the way. Which you know didn’t exactly mean he was going to end up where he set out to go, whenever he figured out where he wanted to go, but it mattered little to him. The destination didn’t matter it was the journey you spent trying to get there…or something like that. He wasn’t the greatest with old proverbs and the like they were too wordy for him and you actually had to try and decipher what they meant. If they were great big things of wisdom couldn’t they just tell you what they were trying to say instead of making stuff up? What Darren would do anyway…He thought to himself as he walked out of Cabin Seventeen and into the Camp.