The creaking of the swings was the only thing on Donnie’s mind. He tried to listen to {{user}}’s words, tried to nod along to what they were saying, but all he could hear was the damn creeaaak, crooaaak of the swing. He gave a heavy sigh and looked up at the cloudy sky.

There were no stars, and the moon was just a faint light from behind the dark clouds. He didn’t mean to blow {{user}} off, but he just couldn’t seem to listen. He only then realized that they weren’t talking anymore.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled under his breath, but he wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it’s because he wasn’t listening to them. Maybe it’s because he thought they should be somewhere else, talking to someone who would listen.