How To Write A Short Story: The Red Panther Party

The constant pushing was becoming aggravating. Tree branches were gnawing and scratching against my pale skin, leaving red lines all over my arms. None of it truly mattered though, all that mattered was what was beyond the brush that was dividing me from an extravagant adventure.
November 22, 2014 was a rather chilly day for going outside. The autumn skies were a pale blue with an overcast that had been drifting for days. The leaves had already turned and were beginning to settle for a long winter. Megan, and few other friends and I had thrown an ugly Christmas sweater party the night before and decided to make it a sleepover. Once we had woken up and retrieved our hot breakfast and warm coats, we stepped into the cool, fall morning air. The plan was to finally show my friends an old girl scout camp that was shut down in the early 1900s. The camp was pretty successful at first, but sadly shut down due to the drowning of a young 13 year old girl who had been swimming in a lake nearby. All of my friends found it extremely fascinating so we decided to take a look around the abandoned campground.
We trotted our way down to the cabin and stomped on small twigs and crunchy red leaves. The cabin
was just at the bottom of my woods in a field of tall grasses. Once we had finally seen the cabin, we went in for a closer look. The cabin had been badly burnt and was missing most of its walls. The barely left ceiling was full of old wasp’s nest. Beat up bedframes were scattered along with crushed beer bottles. Suddenly, a screech came from Megan.
We rushed over to see her pointing at, well, nothing...at first.
After giving the pile of old tree limbs she was pointing at a good second stare I saw it. There was a roof slightly sticking up from a mass of brush. I had lived right up the hill from this location for 9 years and had been down to the camp dozens of times, but never have I ever noticed this small roof that was roughly 100 meters away from the camp. We sprinted on through the scraggly brush, being pulled back on by plenty of branches and jumping over small creeks. Tumbling, jerking, and fleeing was pulling everyone back, but yet was pushing everyone forward. We stopped dead in our tracks after what felt like hours of sprinting and adjusted to the spontaneous sight that was in front of us, sending my eyes into
aw.
A haunted building was standing right in front of my eyes... stranded an all alone. My friends and I walk up to the sad looking structure, grasping our hands around the dry rotted wood. My friends said that they’ve never seen something so lonesome in their life. I peek around the abandoned building to find old bathroom stalls with missing doors and endless pits at the bottom of the toilets. Four sinks are lined up in the midst of it all. Turning on the faucet did nothing, the water was dried up like the rest of the building. The sinks were full of layers of grime and filth. I walk over to the other half of the structure to see the showers infested with abandoned wasp nests. The ceilings were scarred with memories and hopeless wishes that were crumbled, just like the floor. The doors were missing their once well used handles and the holes were now full of webs. Suddenly, the sad realization hit me. The little bathroom and cabin that was standing before me have been standing here alone for years and were officially just memories now of a good time that a few young girls once had. The quaint little buildings probably used to be a summer home for them, full of hot midnight breezes and all-nighters. Now, they are stained with the realization of maybe the girls will never come back for burnt marshmallows and girl talk. And yet these buildings stand strong, hoping for another smile after all these years.