"Do you think there's anybody watching us?" He blurts quietly.

The sound of his voice rips through the whistle of the cold wind and creaky swing set. The playground at night, at the end of town, at the back your old elementary school where you guys first met so many years ago. It's long closed down and the building is surely crumbling from the inside out. The swing sets and seesaws are rusted and pale. However, this was Cam's place to to talk.

Your feet drag through the wet snow as you slowly rock on the swing, your mind soothed by the low rhythmic screech of rusted chains.