Chapter One

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W A I T !

Before you read this, I just want to thank you for taking precious time and spending it by reading my story. I made this story years ago and I just decided to rewrite to try and make it enjoyable. I have many more stories planned and I'm just about ready to start on them. So stay tuned for more stories!

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edited.

There it was.

The newly-built playground.

Probably donated by rich city men who think they're doing charity work of the children.

Swings, monkey bars, few slides, one seesaw, and two benches. Nothing extraordinary.

Me, being the kid I am, ran straight for the swings. I dropped my school bag on the gravel and got on the swing.

I pushed myself back on the swing with my feet and let go. Legs in. Legs out. The more I did this, the higher I got.

"Hey—" A male voice called out, causing me to jolt up the seat of the swing. I slipped off the seat and—THUD.

"Fuuuck." I groaned as I held my knee close to my chest. I didn't bother to get up.

"I'm so sorry." I heard the voice again. The sound of gravel crunching meaning the person was walking closer towards me.

"Here. Grab my hand." I looked up and saw a brown-haired guy holding out his hand for me.

"Uh, thanks." I grabbed his hand and immediately was shocked by how cold his hands were.

I dusted the gravel of my pants and took a step away from the guy.

"I'm Shawn Mendes." He smiled.

"Anna."

"So, how old are you?" He randomly asked.

"Seventeen."

"Wow. You're older than me. I'm sixteen."

"I'm wiser than you then. I'm more experienced." He chuckled.

"Probably not." He laughed.

"I am!"

"What is a seventeen-year-old girl doing here?" He asked.

"Lady. Not girl. I am a lady." I corrected him.

"Answer the question."

"To have fun, I guess. How about you?"

"I live here."

"You live here? In the playground?"

I was beyond skeptical. He didn't look homeless. He wore a blue plaid button-up paired with black skinny jeans and black Vans.

"Yea." He simply replied. As if it was something normal.

I just stared at him with a blank face. Very curious.

"It's best if you stop asking me questions. Curiosity kills the cat."

"You're really weird. Are you high?"

"No. I am not. I am not homeless. I live here." He answered as if he read my mind.

"Okay..."

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"So, do you like to read?" He asked.

"Hate it. I can't focus."

"I love reading. It takes you to places you never thought you could read reach right in the comfort of your own bed. In my case, right in the comfort of my playground." He chuckled.

"I still don't get how you live here." He stay quiet.

We've been talking for hours in this small tube slide. The longer we talked, the hotter I felt in this tube slide.

"I better get going." I broke the silence.

"Come back again tomorrow?" He asked.

"Deal. So same place?"

"Yes. I'll be here." He nodded.

I got out of the hot slide and swung the strap of my bag over my shoulder.

"Bye." I said.

"Goodbye, Anna."

I walked towards the direction of my house, away from the playground.

I walked pass a small library and something in me made me want to go inside. I had the urge to and it felt weird. The smell of wood and old paper greeted me along with an old lady who sat at her counter table.

"Hello, darling." She smiled.

"Hi. I was just wondering if you could recommend me good books to read?" I asked, still questioning why I'm in here.

"Yes. We have The Catcher in the Rye, To Kill a Mockingbird, Animal Farm, Anthem—Oh my goodness! There are a lot. I'll just show you a shelf full of the classics." She said while clasping her hands together.

My attention diverted over to a picture of a young man on her table.

"Shawn?" I questioned.

"You know Shawn?"

"Yes. He's my friend. I just met him just today. Before I went here I was with him actually." I explained.

"I don't think we're talking about the same Shawn. There's no way." She laughed to herself.

"Shawn Mendes. That's him." I urged.

Her face changed into something so indecipherable—mouth agape, eyes staring into space.

"This picture..." she began, "...is Shawn Mendes, my grandson. He went missing when he was seventeen. That incident was five years ago. We never found him since."

The air that surrounded me felt as if it had gotten colder. Goosebumps began to form on my arms while silence began to invade my hearing, loud ringing noises replacing right after.

Then, I hear a faint whisper.

"I told you I live in the playground."

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