User name: Dysney
They laughed at crude jokes and passed around a blunt. Typical children, this crowd. Skipping class in favor of reenacting recess while pretending to be grown up. The rustle of high top sneakers scuffing at the ground and juvenile banter filled the chilly air until the sun began to sink.
One young thing, with a slouching grey beanie atop their head, glanced skyward. “We should probably get back.” Hands shoved into the pockets of their jeans, forcing the wristbands decorating their arms upwards.
The others didn’t really turn to look at the one who had spoken, gazes fixed on the leaves or on the blue chips of paint flaking off the swing set with mumbled agreement.
“It’s about time for school to let out anyway. If we get home on time, we won’t get caught,” the one in the beanie piped up again.
Again, the rest of the group acknowledged it but didn’t begin to move.
“This is boring.” The beanie wearing teen complained before shuffling off.
Another teen, one in a pull over hoodie tried to suck on the end of the blunt. They’d been holding it for the past ten minutes. It was a fruitless effort. With a disappointed noise, the teen dropped the burnt joint and kicked some leaves over it. There were plenty of these butts buried in the wood chips and leaves around this park, covered up to mark the death of each meeting.
One by one they drifted away from the park until two remained. A girl with braids and another teen with dark hair pulled up into a short ponytail. These two, unlike their peers, wore joggers instead of denim.
The sun ambled across the sky, seeming as aimless as these two lost souls.
“It’s going to get dark soon,” the girl said. She shoved her hands under her armpits to warm her stiffening fingers.
“I know.” The ponytailed teen replied, unconcerned. “He’s coming.”
“He?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she, or they, or it.” The teen shrugged, taking a seat in one of the swings, letting their body drift back and forth, heels dragging in the wood chips.
The girl nibbled her lower lip nervously, biting at chapped skin. She wrung the bottom of her grungy hoodie, a grey zip up with shallow pockets.
“What’s it like?” she asked.
“Like going home,” the other teen answered, holding a hand up to the fading sunlight.
The girl frowned. She could see the light streaming through her friend’s hand.
The other teen seemed to notice and stuffed their hand into a sweatpants pocket, fingers curling.
“Soon.”
“So you said.”
The last bits of sunlight gave way to the orange haze of the street lights.
“Close your eyes.” The teen with the ponytail ordered.
“Will it hurt?” the girl asked.
“Not if you do what I say.”
Footsteps crunched towards the pair, making the girl tense. She didn’t gasp or shriek, nothing silly like that. Still, she was wary. Trusting people wasn’t easy and trusting the unknown like this was a last resort.
“Shhh,” her friend said, having stood up and taken her hand. “Count to three.”
“Okay… one, two--” a sharp snapping sound cut off the girl’s voice. Her body fell limp against the chest of her friend.
“Now we can be together forever, no one can hurt you anymore,” they whispered, cradling the curl in their arms. They walked, hugging the limp body to their chest, until they reached the foot of a tree. The girl was laid down carefully, a kiss pressed against her cooling cheek.
“Me next.” The ponytailed teen pulled a backpack from behind the tree and took out some rope.
They were swinging, just like they used to when they were little. Instead of hanging from the monkey bars, they hung from the tree. It was a bit like a tire swing, the short haired teen thought, legs kicking as they went back and forth, back and forth.
Beside them, the girl was swinging too.
Isn’t this fun? the living teen thought.
Soon, both were mostly still, waiting. It was coming.
A figure in a dark cloak came to inspect the two bodies. It propped up a ladder and climbed up to get a closer look. Caressing the faces of the freshy hung teens, it tisked quietly. So young. Carefully, it used a scythe to cut them down and lay each one over a shoulder. It climbed back down the ladder, somehow maintaining balance, before taking down the ladder and walking away.
This cloaked figure showed these two poor, lost souls more tenderness and kindness than anyone else had. Their torsos slouched over its shoulders, arms swinging across its back, cold hands brushing up against one another.
The figure brought them to the forest that grew alongside Crow Street towards the park. It moved quietly, barely causing the leaves below its feet to crackle. The two were strung up once more amidst several other hanging bodies.
The leaves behind the cloaked figure on its ladder rustled as the two teens sat up.
The girl looked at her friend, who was now fully translucent. She brushed the leaves off of her hoodie, but a few patches of gold and red still stuck to the fabric. A hand hovered just within her line of sight. Looking up, the girl smiled and allowed her friend to pull her to her feet.
“I’ve never been this far out in the forest before.”
“It’s easy to get lost if you go off Crow Street, but we’ll be okay.”
“I’m glad.” They laced their fingers together, moonlight shining right through their entwined hands.
“I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while. It’s a special place.”
“It’s worth all the trouble I’ll get in when I go home,” the girl replied, looking around, eyes wide at what looked like hundreds of bodies, swinging from the trees, the dark cloaked figure tending to each one.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” her friend told her, “this is home now.”
Title: Crow Street
The park at the end of Crow Street served as a meeting place for teenagers playing hooky during the day. The peeling paint and rusted equipment fit the pessimistic aesthetic of angsty children in their mid teens; they leaned against the frame of the battered swing set with a few squishing into the too small seats. The denim of their too tight skinny jeans seemed to mirror the way they tried to squeeze into their childhoods. The smattering of leaves, dying brilliantly in shades of gold and red, painted the death of their childhood stomping grounds beautifully. They laughed at crude jokes and passed around a blunt. Typical children, this crowd. Skipping class in favor of reenacting recess while pretending to be grown up. The rustle of high top sneakers scuffing at the ground and juvenile banter filled the chilly air until the sun began to sink.
One young thing, with a slouching grey beanie atop their head, glanced skyward. “We should probably get back.” Hands shoved into the pockets of their jeans, forcing the wristbands decorating their arms upwards.
The others didn’t really turn to look at the one who had spoken, gazes fixed on the leaves or on the blue chips of paint flaking off the swing set with mumbled agreement.
“It’s about time for school to let out anyway. If we get home on time, we won’t get caught,” the one in the beanie piped up again.
Again, the rest of the group acknowledged it but didn’t begin to move.
“This is boring.” The beanie wearing teen complained before shuffling off.
Another teen, one in a pull over hoodie tried to suck on the end of the blunt. They’d been holding it for the past ten minutes. It was a fruitless effort. With a disappointed noise, the teen dropped the burnt joint and kicked some leaves over it. There were plenty of these butts buried in the wood chips and leaves around this park, covered up to mark the death of each meeting.
One by one they drifted away from the park until two remained. A girl with braids and another teen with dark hair pulled up into a short ponytail. These two, unlike their peers, wore joggers instead of denim.
The sun ambled across the sky, seeming as aimless as these two lost souls.
“It’s going to get dark soon,” the girl said. She shoved her hands under her armpits to warm her stiffening fingers.
“I know.” The ponytailed teen replied, unconcerned. “He’s coming.”
“He?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she, or they, or it.” The teen shrugged, taking a seat in one of the swings, letting their body drift back and forth, heels dragging in the wood chips.
The girl nibbled her lower lip nervously, biting at chapped skin. She wrung the bottom of her grungy hoodie, a grey zip up with shallow pockets.
“What’s it like?” she asked.
“Like going home,” the other teen answered, holding a hand up to the fading sunlight.
The girl frowned. She could see the light streaming through her friend’s hand.
The other teen seemed to notice and stuffed their hand into a sweatpants pocket, fingers curling.
“Soon.”
“So you said.”
The last bits of sunlight gave way to the orange haze of the street lights.
“Close your eyes.” The teen with the ponytail ordered.
“Will it hurt?” the girl asked.
“Not if you do what I say.”
Footsteps crunched towards the pair, making the girl tense. She didn’t gasp or shriek, nothing silly like that. Still, she was wary. Trusting people wasn’t easy and trusting the unknown like this was a last resort.
“Shhh,” her friend said, having stood up and taken her hand. “Count to three.”
“Okay… one, two--” a sharp snapping sound cut off the girl’s voice. Her body fell limp against the chest of her friend.
“Now we can be together forever, no one can hurt you anymore,” they whispered, cradling the curl in their arms. They walked, hugging the limp body to their chest, until they reached the foot of a tree. The girl was laid down carefully, a kiss pressed against her cooling cheek.
“Me next.” The ponytailed teen pulled a backpack from behind the tree and took out some rope.
They were swinging, just like they used to when they were little. Instead of hanging from the monkey bars, they hung from the tree. It was a bit like a tire swing, the short haired teen thought, legs kicking as they went back and forth, back and forth.
Beside them, the girl was swinging too.
Isn’t this fun? the living teen thought.
Soon, both were mostly still, waiting. It was coming.
A figure in a dark cloak came to inspect the two bodies. It propped up a ladder and climbed up to get a closer look. Caressing the faces of the freshy hung teens, it tisked quietly. So young. Carefully, it used a scythe to cut them down and lay each one over a shoulder. It climbed back down the ladder, somehow maintaining balance, before taking down the ladder and walking away.
This cloaked figure showed these two poor, lost souls more tenderness and kindness than anyone else had. Their torsos slouched over its shoulders, arms swinging across its back, cold hands brushing up against one another.
The figure brought them to the forest that grew alongside Crow Street towards the park. It moved quietly, barely causing the leaves below its feet to crackle. The two were strung up once more amidst several other hanging bodies.
The leaves behind the cloaked figure on its ladder rustled as the two teens sat up.
The girl looked at her friend, who was now fully translucent. She brushed the leaves off of her hoodie, but a few patches of gold and red still stuck to the fabric. A hand hovered just within her line of sight. Looking up, the girl smiled and allowed her friend to pull her to her feet.
“I’ve never been this far out in the forest before.”
“It’s easy to get lost if you go off Crow Street, but we’ll be okay.”
“I’m glad.” They laced their fingers together, moonlight shining right through their entwined hands.
“I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while. It’s a special place.”
“It’s worth all the trouble I’ll get in when I go home,” the girl replied, looking around, eyes wide at what looked like hundreds of bodies, swinging from the trees, the dark cloaked figure tending to each one.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” her friend told her, “this is home now.”
