I was walking around in summer camp one day, being the rebel that I was, and popped out on the main road out of the treeline. The main road had a counselor house that they used for orientation purposes. But the main road was closed at night to discourage us from calling people and having them pick us up.
So I noticed the front door was open and the only thing keeping bugs and stuff from flying in was a screen storm door. Through this screen door I heard moans and grunts and stuff coming through.
I was like 11, I didn't have the internet to corrupt my mind like you young's do now, and I'd just taken a cpr class. Thinking somebody was hurt, I rushed through the screen door into the buildings living room. It was like a counselor shag fest in there.
Needless to say one very shocked preteen and several very shocked counselors were all running out of the house. I don't think my face has ever been so red in my life.
They tried to catch me I guess to make up a story (even though now it doesn't really make sense because they were all of consenting age) so that I wouldn't tell, but I was young and fast and turned on the adrenaline fueled jets.
I don't know if they ever saw my face clearly, but none of them ever said anything to me about it. The strange thing is, I'd go back to this summer camp repeatedly and these same instructors would be there. It was pretty awkward for me.
