Hell Night

    We laid in our beds, patiently, The cold night air stinging our faces, global equilibrium counter-acting a hot day. We breathed quietly, listening through the chirping of crickets, a pack of wolves patiently awaiting to ambush the rabid horde.
    We were their prey, but we became the predator. Silently disguising ourselves, hiding ourselves in the mask of sleep, we waited. Expecting at any moment another pack -another tent to enter our room.
    We laid there thinking. The last night at camp, the last night to do anything. Hell Night. I clutched the broom by my bed, reassuring myself it was there. Then I shivered, pulling the thin blankets over my head.
    That's when I heard them.
    The shuffling of feet, the silence of the crickets, the stillness of the other tent members going stiff, motionless in their beds. We heard the quiet footsteps outside, silently breaking the dry grass under their feet.
    All at once, we moved.
    I pulled my sheets off, grabbing the cold bars with both hands, pulling myself off the bed. Then in one quick motion, I let go, bending my knees and silently dropping to the dark cement floor, feet stinging against the chill.
    I grabbed the broom, positioning myself in the corner by the door. Hiding in the shadows, the wooden broom comfortable in my sweaty hands.
    Glancing around, everyone was in position. On the lockers, under beds, standing on the top of bunks, every person armed. None of us noticed the cold. Adrenaline rushing, heart pumping, we waited. We waited anxiously and hungrily like a wolf with the scent. We stared at the window, moonlight shining through, cascading onto the floor, dislodging its brilliance around the tent, creating an eerie blue glow.
Then the darkness came. A sudden shadow cut out the light, as if banishing all vividness to a dark twilight, a person was by the door. This was it.
    No one moved. We all waited, as we had been waiting all night. This was the moment. The clash of wind and storm, wolf and beast, man and man. And we stood there, waiting for the creaking door to open, for the zealous mob to swarm through the door, intent gleaming in their eyes, bloodshot for the kill.
    The awkward silence was suddenly broken, the thumping of fist on wood. We stared at each other, unhinged. Where was the excitement, the stealth attack? Where was the encroachment of hostile army cadets? Would they not run in screaming? Tying us to our beds?
    All of a sudden, a grim voice whispered in the darkness, from the other side of the door. "Go to bed," the staff member muttered, "I see you in the shadows, I assure you that no army cadets will be coming in your tents."
    Everyone stayed tense for a few seconds, than we all trudged back to our beds. I slowly climbed to my top bunk, resting my head on the lumpy pillow. I closed my eyes, pulling my thin sheets over me when I noticed the cold. After a while, all of us drifted away from consciousness, and in our restful slumber, no one heard them enter our tent, as vile triumph reflected in their dark eyes, they circled our beds in the darkness of twilight.