story on an adventure that turned sour courage
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The story of an adventure that turned sour courage.
There were five of us that night. All plucky and eager to experience what camping as a scout would feel like. Our scout leader always told us to stay together and never forget our flashlights, old heavy relics that let out powerful light beams. However, things began to go sour quickly. For a moment we were happy and were enjoying the campfire. One moment we sat around swapping stories and then it moves to stories of the paranormal and feats of courage. Our scout leader told us to go to bed. But we snuck out of our tents and gathered near the great tree once again to test our mettle. We’d heard of a lake near the campsite and wanted to see it.
Me and another of the lads dared the others, teased them for following the rules till they agreed to come with us. We had only two torch lights between five of us but set out anyway. The woods were terrifying, branches cast horrifying shadows by the moonlight and strange noises could be heard. Suddenly we heard the creaking of branches. We thought it was the wind or a small animal. We saw the lake and we saw a silhouette of a man running towards us. Dread set in. We panicked. We saw no choice. At that moment, all five of us jumped into the lake. One of us was not a goo swimmer.
He panicked and struggled and was on the verge of drowning. The silhouette lumbered, jumped in and saved him. By the light of the torch we saw our irate, upset scout master and we were about to receive the worst punishment from both him and our parents. That moment when my friend was drowning taught me that the rules exist for a reason and that there is a thin line between foolishness and bravado.