SCREECH, the yellow school busses came to a halt at the curb. One by one the feet came thundering out of the vehicles. A herd of excitement started gathering at the sidewalk until the teacher told them to pick up their belongings at the other side of the camp. The students, all one hundred and thirty of them, formed an assembly line and started unloading their oversized luggage. Once accomplished, each of them was instructed to meet in the cafeteria after everyone had settled down in their cabins. I started toward it. I dragged the dead weight of my baggage through the forest and through the rocks and through the dirt and finally up the stairs to reach my room. What had felt like an epic trek around the world was really only around three minutes. There I was, standing in what I would call home for the next four days, a home without any family members, and a home with hundreds of unfamiliar faces. I dropped off my personal belongings and went toward the cafeteria. As I slowly made my way there, I glanced around at the unknown environment. There were trees engulfing me at every turn. Then, there was the occasional bone chilling breeze that whistled and howled throughout the night. There were sounds echoing throughout the forest, but most came from the chirping cicadas. It was not music to my ears, it was a nuisance. However, at some points there was the beautiful sound of pure silence. On the other hand, there was something else I heard, laughter. Laughter was running amuck all around the camp. These all came from the returning classes. Then, there were the freshmen who were as silent as Death himself. Their bonds have not had the time to form like those of the upper classmen.

The cafeteria was already half filled by the time I arrived. Everyone had taken a seat and I decided to take one near my other freshmen classmates. Hardly anyone spoke at my table, but the whole place was ignited with conversations. This was all due to the traits of each class: there were the freaked out freshmen, the silly sophomores, the joyous juniors, and the steadfast seniors. Out of nowhere, the room was hushed and attention was brought to Mrs. B, our band director. She laid down the plan for the night and how the rest of camp would go. Not only that, but she unloaded a handful of information, including schedules for tomorrow morning, afternoon, and night. All this information was thrown at me like having to memorize terms for a test. After that, our next assignment was to go outside and form a line.

We all jumped out of our seats and rushed outside under the shadow of the moon. Everyone raced to stand next to their friends in line. I for one did the same and stood next to one of mine. However, on the other side of me someone snatched up my hand. I looked over and realized it was my section leader, who I have only known for a few days. I guess I had to grab my other friend’s hand if an upperclassman was doing it. Slowly, one by one, everyone started to do the same. The noise started to die down and it became as silent as the dead of night. From the get-go, I knew that this was not going to be any ordinary activity. Our task would not be as simple as just forming a line. There was a catch; there was no talking of any sorts, only movement. All of us stood by each other: side by side, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand. Our two goals were to follow the leader and not break the chain of two hundred and sixty interlocked hands. It did not sound difficult at all, but it was quite the opposite. It started at a snail’s pace, but soon evolved to the speed of a cheetah. People were already being outstretched. People were falling. People were struggling. People were losing grip. What had started out as a line turned out to be a fight to keep the chain alive. No matter how difficult it got, we held on with all our might. We went through these trials filled with obstacles of all sorts like rocky terrain and even a playground where everyone was slipping down the slide. Not one of us broke the chain.

After we journeyed through the endeavors, everyone ended up in the A-Frame, a building shaped like an A. From there, we all mutually broke apart the chain and cheered on our accomplishment. Our next set of instructions was given from the high commander herself. My classmates and I were to make haste to the next destination, the amphitheater. And so everyone made the journey there, but it was different from the walk to the cabins. Freshmen were already starting to integrate with other people. Just about an hour ago, they were scared to death to even make eye contact with other people, myself included. Most of the chatter included what had happened during our little follow the leader game. Arriving one by one, we all took a seat at the theater. To end the night, seniors were to tell stories about their journey through the four years of high school. I sat there, intrigued in what each and every one had to say. Everyone sat there, bunched up together giving their full undivided attention to the ones speaking. Most of the seniors relived hilarious moments of the goofy things that they did while in band. Tears were dripping down my face, but not because of sadness. It was all due to their adventures together. I could not stop cracking up. My laugh probably was starting to sound that of a hyena’s. It was already around three a.m. when the last senior told his story. Even though we were starting to doze off, everyone tried to wide awake and wore a smile through it. With the conclusion of that, Mrs. B ordered us to head to our rooms and get some well deserved sleep. There was to be no staying up tonight, but who would? We were all consumed by exhaustion. I slowly made the trek back to my cabin and crashed right onto the bed. I knew the night was growing old and the morning would soon crawl up over the horizon. The real work was to begin soon.

Band camp lasted for three more days, but it was the beginning of that first night which shaped up how our band will function. Just being able to see the bonds demonstrated by the other classes influenced my class. We looked up to them and strived to become the junior and senior classes. Every one of us freshmen wanted to form that friendship, which we easily saw throughout their stories. I realized that the chain we kept during our line activity represented something much more than just keeping our hands together. It symbolized what we would become: an unstoppable force, having trust in one another, and a team working together for a greater purpose. But most of all, it represents the bonds we formed, a bond so strong that we would eventually call ourselves a family.