A Book of Short Stories and Poems

The Hollow Place and the Empty Girl

 She ran to the park. It was deserted in the middle of the night. She found it all to be very ominous. The swing set swung like a pendulum as the wind brushed past the,. "Creak! Creak!" cried the swing's aching joints in time as if they were metronome. It felt like they were trying to warn her of something to come.

She sat on one of the creaky swings, causing it to end its predictable melody.

She pulled her sweater around her tighter as the wind dashed by her. She was chilled to her core. She could feel the cold as it touched her skin, crawled through her body, reached the base of her spine, scurried up it like a ladder, and reached her brain. The cold paralyzed her. She couldn't move even if she wanted to.

But it made her a mindless zombie, too. Her knife straight raven hair was unkempt and knotty due to the numerous times she'd run her fingers through her hair and attempted to pull it out. Her eyes looked as if they belonged to a raccoon because of the mascara that ran lines down her face caused by not-so-long-gone tears. Her smoke gray sweater had moth eaten holes that her anxiety caused her to pick at and make bigger. Her black leggings were no longer a true black due to age.

Her teeth worried at her lower lip, pulling off the skin until she started to bleed and then some. Her hands were playing with the holes of her sweater unconsciously.

A simple silver cross hung from her throat. It reflected the light that emitted from the harsh fluorescent lamps. They provided the only light in the park due to it being a new moon, and the clouds covered the stars.

The cold, heartless lamps made the metal playground structure and the benches to cas long, unusual shadows. The trees and shrubbery looked like they were evil monsters with sharp, awkward limbs and jagged teeth. They peered at the girl with the sickly looking skin--because of the uncaring lampposts--with sightless eyes.

The girl couldn't hear much. The swings with achy joints. The rustling of the leaves that made it sound like the evil monsters were shuffling closer to her. The wind's whispers that caressed her with hollow sweet nothings. The sound of her breath as her lungs expanded and deflated.

She didn't hear anything else. Not the crickets chirping conversationally. No the metal masterpieces as they strolled along the road. Not the distant children laughing as they tried to catch the star-like fireflies.

Nothing else.

Not even her own heartbeat.

She couldn't be sure that she was even still alive without being able to hear her life-generator hard at work.

She places her hand over where her heart should be, but she couldn't feel the constant drumming of her heart. She moved her hand in search of a pulsing. It wasn't a desperate search, though. It was like she didn't really care if she found her heart to be thumping or not. Dead or alive. It didn't seem to matter to her.

Eventually, her hand came to rest upon her crucifix necklace. The cold metal bit at her palm. She made a fist around the symbol. She wanted to feel the sting. Maybe she enjoyed it.

Maybe it reminded her that she was alive like a pinch reminds someone that they're awake.

Maybe it was to prove to herself that she could still feel.

Ot maybe it was because she felt like she deserved it.

She sat silently on the swing while clutching the piece of jewelry. The only sound she made was her breathing. Her legs were twisted inwards at each other. It looked like a rather awkward position to place oneself in. The arrangement of her limbs made it look like she wanted to fold in on herself like a piece of paper. Over and over until she popped out of existence.

The achy swings made their creaking moans while her legs suddenly pushed. She didn't push hard enough so that her feet left the ground. She simply rocked herself back and forth like a metronome.

With a sudden movement, she got up and walked home.