Kira pulled into the parking lot of the campground and was surprised to see that it was nearly full.

F-150s with boat trailers and obnoxious RVs filled multiple spots, completely disregarding other campers.

She sighed.

The one weekend I get off, and everyone decides to go camping here,

she whispered to herself. She drove by the packed rows, frustrated and nearly ready to leave.

But as luck would have it, a small single spot revealed itself to her. She waited ever so

briefly to weigh her options. I should just go back home. I don't even like camping, she told her. She waited ever so briefly to weigh her options. I should just go back home. I don't even like

camping, she told herself. However, a car behind her honked, interrupting her moment of reflection,

and she pulled into the spot. She got out of the car, grabbed her large backpack, and went to the

mouth of the trail. The nearby lake was

slightly less crowded, but people lined most of the nearby lake shore, and a few dozen

watercrafts were out enjoying their day. Oh, how Kira wished she could be out there with friends,

basking in the sun and cool water, enjoying her time, perhaps drinking and gossiping about work or boys.

But that wasn't the case for her.

She had lived mostly a sheltered life, never taking risks, never acting on desires outside of her control.

She was a loner, but not by choice.

Her anxiety and depression had a firm grip on her, one that she felt she would never be released

from.

She proceeded to the trail and glanced to both sides.

Colorful tents and camping chairs lined fire pits, and the woods were bright and full of people

playing various yard games.

Each campsite seemed full. She continued her way

...