Memories of the Squeaky Swing Set

She walks down the dusty road to the park on a drizzly October day. She sits on her favorite swing with a blank expression and you can hear the eerie sounds of the squeaky swing. Like a broken clock. Going up, down, up down. Tick, tock, tick, tock. She gets goosebumps as memories of her broken childhood race though her head as the noise of the swing wont get out of her head. It's like a broken record going over and over again, piercing her ears with the sounds of the swing, and the memory's of her childhood.

Ghosts of her past haunt her. Like a horror film racing through her mind. She shivers. She hears the little kids eerie voices singing deep down the path as her memories begin to flood her mind. She starts to spiral out of her body looking down at a blank expression of a girl sitting on the swing. She hears the dim sound of humming. She knows it's not her though. It's the voices again. Screaming at her to be punished. "Your are a bad girl!" They scream at her over and over again.

She jumps off the swing set and starts running away from the voices. But they keep getting louder and louder. She can't run from something that is right inside her. They are a part of her, and that will never change. No matter how hard she tries to ignore them they just keep getting stronger and louder. She is too weak to fight them.

Images of blood and death swim through her mind. The smell of death fills her nose. She imagines her coffin getting put into the ground six feet under. DING DONG DING DONG the church bells ring.

"Wake up!" Then she realizes she is back in her own bed with her alarm clock ringing at her head. She gets up, puts on shoes and goes to the squeaky swing set that she always sits on. And the memories start to flood all over again.