On the road to camp, my uncle drove me in his old beaten car. I stared at the scenic route and my fingers scratched the scruffy brown leather surface of the seats. It was my first day at summer camp in a foreign country, and I felt like my heart was jumping out of my chest.

When we arrived, the receptor with a huge grin told us to meet for an assembly in the cafeteria, where we would be separated into groups. The cafeteria was crowded with kids from tiny chitchatting children playing with their food to high schoolers gaming on their phones. I search around for a place to sit but found no familiar faces. I pondered for a second, then quickly walked away from the bundle of students increasing in size. I sat on the stone stairs covered in moss before a giant building's entrance; the sun's rays shining on half of my face and burning across the soccer field around me.
 
Everyone gathered around to take a group photo, forever capturing the summer of 2017 into the camera lens before me. I staggered around awkwardly when the photographer asked us to make funny poses. Finally, I settled on a normal pose, which surprisingly made me stand out among the 30 or so teenagers, I even received a few glances that said, “you are lame”, but they were ignored. I chose to keep my memory just as it was, as an awkward and gloomy kid.