Meet Me At The Swing Set

Part 2

Tristans POV
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I heaved myself off the cold floor , forcing myself to feel something other than the dull pain I always experienced after it came to see me . It was almost as if she was sticking a knife in my chest and twisting it extremely slowly . I felt nothing. Only pain . Most of my emotions had all but disappeared . All except for pain , sadness and anger . Since I was admitted here two months ago I have never once felt happiness or joy . I made my way out of my small cell like room , and plodded unwillingly down the corridor to the dining hall . When I picture a dining hall I see a grand room with a large table full of divine food and exquisite decoration and atmosphere . This isn't what this dining room was . This dining room was large , but empty . This wasn't a place where people celebrated . It wasn't a place of grandeur . This dining room gave off a cold , delightfully creepy atmosphere in my opinion . It had two long stretched tables surrounded by rickety , moulding old chairs that were falling apart . The table itself was not much better . The food was plain . It lacked in flavour . There was nothing exciting about it . No spices and seasonings , no sauces or garnishes , nothing that could upset or "confuse " any of us . Nothing to set us off . That was their excuse , though I doubt good food would be frightening to many of us . I took my seat just as the others began to come in . There were fifty of us . Of these fifty , I knew but one . She was called Olivia just like my love was . She wasn't like my Olivia though . She was small and scrawny with mousy hair and brown eyes . My Olivia was tall and beautiful with her big blue eyes that shone when she was happy and her long chocolate curls that always cascaded down her back .

The servers came in with our breakfast after a few minutes . Though I would never admit it , everyday I secretly hoped that this food would be bearable . It never was . Only on Christmas did we ever get proper food . Even that was carefully dulled down . Just in case we would go crazy , or should I say crazier over proper nutrition . Today's breakfast was the usual porridge . Or at least they tell us it's porridge . You can't really tell the potatoes from the peas around here . I sat down at the edge of one of the tables , staring disdainfully at a particularly nasty looking stain that seemed engraved on the wood . Most likely last nights dinner . Last night dinner had seemed particularly unbearable . They had called it chowder but the only thing I could taste was ... Well I don't quite know what it tasted like . I don't tend to go around tasting strange things . I just know that I'm quite sure it wasn't something edible and it was the worst thing that has ever passed my lips . I took a bowl of the mystery porridge , and picked up my spoon mustering up all the courage I could . I scooped up the doughy , slime like , lumpy porridge onto my spoon and put the spoon to my lips . Opening my mouth , I quickly proceeded to shove the porridge in . I felt as if I was going to throw up . The slimy ooze seemed to coat the sides and roof of my mouth and my tongue . I swallowed trying to rid myself of the terrible fare , but it took a few attempts to force it down my throat - and keep it there . After swallowing the disgusting food , I realised that my bowl was still three quarters full and that I had , indeed only vanquished a mere quarter of breakfast .

Deciding I had had enough , I simply sat there staring at the wall and trying to avoid talking to the others . After all , it would be useless making friends here . They always seemed to disappear one way or the other . One by one . Miraculous recoveries were usually not the reason for the disappearances either . Murder , suicide , mysterious deaths and creatures that plagued them while they were alive was usually what did it . I realised as I thought this that I had seen very few people make it out of here alive . It was either you stayed here for life and eventually died of old age , or you died while you were here . The thoughts depressed me , more so because I knew they were true . These were not just the confused thoughts of a mad person . People never took us seriously , always assuming any odd thought in our heads was due to our "condition " .

I was shocked back into reality by the moist feeling on my arm . I realised that while being so engrossed in my thoughts I had somehow managed to knock over the foul bowl of porridge onto my arm , and it stank to high heaven . My sleeve was wet and sticky and the feeling of the lumpy parts against my arm made my skin crawl . I stood up and left the dining room , headed for my room . I walked down the corridor quietly , but I had the strange feeling that I was being followed . I turned around as quickly as I could , glanced over my shoulder , looked all around me but I saw nothing . Unsatisfied , I looked up . I wish I hadn't . There she was , walking over me her dirty white dress still sporting the new blood stain from the feather she had stabbed in my dreams . She looked down and smiled at me with her thin crimson lips and small sharp teeth . She was carrying a letter which she dropped on the floor at my feet . I bent over to pick it up and when I had stood back up again she was gone , leaving only the letter and a slight breeze in her wake . I brushed my hair out of my face then proceeded to unfold the letter , having forgotten the porridge stain on my clothing and the atrocious taste of porridge in my mouth .

I began to read the letter , admiring the fancy calligraphy that patterned the page with dark black ink to form the message :
I am the one who sent you here . For good reason I assure you .
I will not rest until I have gotten my revenge on you , for what you have done is unforgivable .
I need you to meet me at the swing sets . Not just in your dreams .
Gather the clues and use them wisely . The first one I sent was a black feather .

It was real ! I knew it was real ! I knew I wasn't crazy ! I was just a victim in this creatures twisted humour . It wasn't my fault I had killed all those people . It was this creature that was taking over my mind and clouding my conscience ! I am completely innocent . I did feel urges to kill sometimes but surely I could suppress them . Their screams were just so satisfying and ....... Hmmm .. Maybe I was a killer . So what ?

She wanted me to meet her at the swing set . The swings where I had killed my first victim , no doubt . The swing set I had killed her at . I remember that day . I was particularly angry at my parents , seven years ago when I was but sixteen years old . I had sulked off to the park looking for a place to hide for a while . A fat little girl , around ten years old , with pigtails and a red bow in her hair was sitting on the swings . She wasn't swinging , she just sat there yelling for her mum to come push her . I had had a bad day and the yelling irritated me .

(Flashback)
"Mum ! Mum ! Mu-uum ! Come push me ! I need help. " The girl wailed continuously . I peeked out from behind the bushes to get a better look at the girl . She was chubby and had pigtails . A bright ribbon the colour of blood decorated the end of each braid . She was really getting on my nerves , and I was already fuming . I tried to ignore her . I crouched down in the bushes , on or two prickly branches digging into my legs and I tried to relax . To get over their lies and her yelling and to simply block the world out . It was working . I inhaled and exhaled a few times . I could just about rela- "MUUUUUUM" she was at it again . I couldn't take it anymore , so I emerged , my arms covered in tiny cuts from the bushes . I walked slowly over to the swing sets and whispered in the girls ear that her mother had gone to the bathroom and had asked me to take her for a walk . She was suspicious , but I was persistent and eventually she followed me into a nearby forest .

"Where are we going ? I'm hungry ! I want my mum ! Take me to the bathroom ." She bombarded me with questions that I was in no mood to answer , so I shoved her . She lost her balance and landed on the ground . "You're being mean to me ! I'm telling mum ! " she snivelled . She scowled at me , then stood up and kicked me as hard as she could . It didn't hurt but it made my blood boil that she had done it anyway . She crossed her arms triumphantly , the annoying little brat . I was sick of her . I needed to get rid of her . The best way was to kill her , and hide her body here in the forest . I smiled , adrenaline rushing through me as I grabbed her by the arm and flung her against a tree . She regained her balance , obviously shocked with tears running down her face .  I grabbed a  large , thick branch from a fallen tree in the ground and swung it at her as hard as I could , just as she was running away . She dropped to the ground , and I whacked her body again repeatedly as hard as I could with the large branch until her chest no longer rose and fell , and I made sure she wasn't breathing . Her small , innocent face was making me feel guilty , so I  hit that too , and I didn't stop until her face was unrecognisable . She lay in a small puddle of her own crimson blood with specks of it dotted all over her white dress . I sat there awhile beside the corpse as the realisation that I had just killed a person dawned on me .

I stood up , remembering that I had only completed one part . I needed the body to be hidden, so I crouched onto the ground and dug a hole in the mud with my hands , the dirt caking my nails , using the blood to soften the mud do it would be easier to dig the hole . After a few minutes I had a shallow hole big enough for the body . I shoved the body into the hole then proceeded to cover it in mud again. I dug another hole a few metres away , and used the mud to finish covering the body so that the corpse was completely covered . Next I covered the whole thing in leaves and stones , and a few sticks . I felt quite proud of myself for thinking of it . I later hosed down at a fountain before heading home . All my anger was gone . I felt quite calm , actually .

Death is beautiful .