The Mysterious Story Of Shailie Garson

It was nine pm. Shailie was staring into the left window of the front porch of the Garson's home. Watching the family laugh at the tv. The family that used to be hers. She sighed and a tear slid down her face. Turning away, she climbed onto the swing that had been built for her when she was seven. Pushing her dirty bare feet into the cold dirt, she swung high into the air, smiling faintly at the rush of air that blew her thin hair back. Staring out at the sky, she thought about her life, her life before she died.