DOES THIS SOUND AMATEUR?

The thick smell of smoke filled the air and crowded my mind as I tried to think. My brain was tingling, making me unable to think straight. It was these woods; they were cutting off my mind, and making this whole dang trip frustrating. I finally racked my brain for an idea, to take a little detour. I carefully unzipped the nylon tent, so Hazel wouldnt wake. It was dark, making it so you could only see the soft outline of the thickets and trees. Quickly, I ran to the other side of the campground, flinching with every crunch of the gravel. The damp log, which I decided to sit on, was perched around the burnt out campfire.

I was supposed to like the woods, wasnt I? I mean, my name is Willow; shouldnt I enjoy the fact that all around me was trees and wilderness? Maybe, but I couldnt with the constant, nagging thought of who was here with me. I was here with Hazel, my enemy since the beginning of the school year. Why was I here?! I kept telling myself it would be good; just to keep my insanity, but I knew that this stupid trip wouldnt help anything. In the distance, a bird chirp echoed through the site. I made a silent promise to myself that I would somehow come out of this place with a new lesson. There was absolutely no point in suffering this much, with no motivation or reward.

Thinking back to the beginning of the school year, I realized it was the reason I was here.

* * *

I woke in a cold sweat from my nightmare. My clock read five in the morning. Today; my first day of the seventh grade; I had loathed all summer. All I wanted right now was to be able to say I am staying at elementary school. Middle school was a stupid thing. Middle school was like being stuck in between two worlds, and not exactly fitting in either. I had finished elementary school, but I wasnt yet in high school. Knowing I was at this point, made me feel like a misfit, which didnt match any of my friends views on our new grade. They were ecstatic, and have been waiting for this day all of their lives.

I laid there for a minute studying my room, which, for some reason I didnt know, looked vaguely unfamiliar. It was large, and wide, considering the fact it was originally the master bedroom. My parents thought it was too small when we moved here, and created a renovation project for a more appropriate sized room. They got the bigger room while I got this one. In my room, there was a new pine dresser in the corner, cluttered with academic awards and trophies, which were embarrassing to look at. My eyes slowly drifted to the right of it; coming into my view was the TV, which hung on the wall. Underneath it was a small coffee table that had my outfit for today set out, and a navy blue backpack, stuffed with notebooks and freshly sharpened pencils.

I sighed and rolled over on my stomach breathing in the heavy scent of my pillow. I tried closing my eyes, but every time that happened I kept returning to the nightmare; the nightmare of the first day. I had that strange pull in my gut telling myself not to go. Then again, I knew I was exaggerating. Seventh Grade wasnt such a big deal. Maybe, the only reason for my nervousness was that, it was the first time I was staying in the same school, for a second year.

My father was a lawyer, a very professional and successful lawyer, and his job required him to move to different states. Honestly I never really saw the point in moving. Its not like my dad was ever around. No one in the family ever saw him, so why did my mother and I have to move with him? Arguing over it though, would be pointless. He was a lawyer, and never lost an argument. Not even my mother, who always had that way of ending an argument, and getting whatever she wanted, could take on my father.

My mother, Meredith, had grown up very wealthy. Her parents, like mine, had important jobs. Her parents, if I remember correct, owned a fruit business that had taken off well. She later on grew up to marry a wealthy husband, my dad, to care for her every need. Sometimes I considered the thought that maybe my mother was spoiled, maybe she was inconsiderate of everything around her. She was definitely stuck up, with the way she would complain if she didnt have everything she owned handed to her on a silver platter. We would get calls from the credit card company saying she maxes out her cards too much. My mother would come home with bags and boxes of clothes from designer stores, and then leave them in her walk in closet with the tag still on it, probably never to be used.

The point is, we move almost every summer, because some new company offers my father a job, and no matter how many times I complained they were both against me.

Willow, My mother would tell me. We could use the money. Think about it. You will like it there. Its not like you didnt see this one coming! She would tell me, not even looking at my face. Of course, she would agree to it. She was a spender.
It does in places, but most of it is very good, Well done! Here are some little hints which would make it sound better to read...