•Part 1•

Home.
Could you even call it that? Home?
You envied those who could do such a thing. Almost everyone in your small part time job had a home. Almost everyone in town. Maybe they didn't. But you just felt so alone that you assumed so.
The only being you knew could genuinely feel through your mind was Ziggy Berman. Her home was just as much a shithole as yours. Alcoholic mom, dad gone.
Camp Nightwing, despite it being the most terrible place on earth, also seemed to be where you felt most at peace . Because it was just you, and just Ziggy.
But this summer, summer '78 things were heading down a path, and turning back wasn't permitted.

𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘖𝘋

𝙎𝘾𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙈𝙎

"𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧...𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝"