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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2239794-The-Park
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #2239794
A thriller short story about a park.
I could feel the damp grass between my fingers, could smell the salty water from the river and taste the almonds I let slide down my dry throat. I could hear the crisp breeze whispering my name.

He stood beside me on the dock holding a fishing rod that held to the cold water. The rocks make the cool liquid jump into the air scaring away all of the fish. People warn others to not fish here, but we do anyway. I used to come here as a kid and play with my sister, until they started dumping here. This park used to be filled with people almost everyday of the week, now you will hardly see a bird. The sun used to shine so bright that there was hardly any water in the river, but we all still went fishing.

The wooden dock underneath me creaked as the water made it sway. The sun was starting to go into its slumber as it turned the sky a deep shade of crimson. Crimson was my favourite colour. There are lots of different shades of crimson but I only adored one shade. That shade called to me like sparks would cling to clothes. The colour of blood crimson. The colour you would only see when a pure heart broke into a million shards. The colour that would remind you of a tragic story, a lost lover, a lost friend, a lost soul.

His voice scratched as he told me his story of the park were we sat. There are lots of different versions of the truth they say, but for all we know this town could be cursed.

His voice started shy then crept toward the brutal sound of rotten old finger nails against an old chalk board.

“This park was an amazing place, this was everyone’s community home. But one day the men in suits pushed everyone out of the park and sealed it off. The trees started to die and the grass turned pale copper, and anyone who tried to enter, the men in suits would take them away.”

Little pellets of rain fell on our heads as my words fell out of my mouth. “Then why are we here?” He looked at me with fear in his eyes but I could sense he was trying to hold something in. “You don’t have to protect me, I can handle myself.”

“Honey, no one really knows.”

Thunder struck down and turned my skin pale. The heavy rain hit my head and the breeze no longer whispered my name, it called out for something much more deadly. All I could hear was the heavy rain and thunder striking down above me. I could smell fear but I knew it was not my own. My legs were noodles and my breathing was erratic. The smell of rain and wet, dead grass did not help my queasy stomach.

My cold damp clothes clinging to my body sent a shiver through me, that was not pleasing. The once beautiful sky was now dark shades of grey and black, the only colour were the tremendous bolts of lighting.

I yelled at him over the heavy rain to back away from the water, for him to stop fishing just drop the pole, but I got no response. He just stood there and the edge of the creaky wooden dock like an oil painting except it was painted with shades of fear. I grabbed onto his soaked arm and tried to pull him away from the river, but he did not budge. Fear grew in my stomach making my body its new stay away home. I tried to fight the feeling but it was stronger than me. It wanted for me to let him die.

The rain became deadly, the rain flung down pieces of ice that could take out a full grown man, and the river started to flood.

“Come on!” I cried out but still he did not move, Tear’s slid down my already water drenched face as I tried once more to pull him back, but this time my arms did not obey me. His frozen body once again was full of life, as it hit the enraged river. The thunderous waves tossed his body around like a colourful beach ball in the summer time. Except it was not summer, it was a stale November, it was anything but sunny, the clouds were distasteful, the wind clapped louder with every blow and the down pour was so strong it could take out fifty full grown men. Then there I was standing on the drenched dock just watching his tortured body hit the rocks. Turning the blue-grey water a deep shade of crimson. My body was stiff , I could not move my arms or twitch my eyelids. My mind was frozen, the pain flooding it was harsher than a brain freeze in a sweet August.

The rain hit my face hard, harder then a train could hit me, but still my face remained frozen in fear.
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