The Swing

• Helena Savarton, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2019

My feet tread lightly on the grass and soft, moss. I haven’t been in these woods for a long time. Back before… but that was years ago. The forest isn’t the same anymore. The feel of the forest is different, more old, mysterious, quiet, then bright, happy and full of noise. The trees have grown dramatically, the branches twist and turn in a bizarre way into the sky. Instead of a cute dirt path in between the trees, the paths is covered in grasses, moss and a variety of small coloured flowers.

I walk along the path and come to a lake. Surrounded by trees, it’d be hard to spot if you just walked by. You can tell this place is a quiet spot. The lake is crystal clear, the surface is so smooth it looks like you could run across it. I pick up a small, smooth oval shaped stone and skip it across the lake.

My eyes look up and there I see it, the swing from my childhood past. It’s not rusted, in fact it looks in perfect condition. I wonder if… I head towards the swing, pushing my way through the bushes. When I’m in front of it I stop and stare at it. How is it still fine? My hand reaches out and brushes the seat. I look at the paint, the metal chains and nothing is wrong with it.

I take a deep breath and sit on the seat. Memories come flooding back, the laughter, her smile, his smile, our joy… no! I am panting, I don’t know if it got hotter but I am sweating. What is going on? I leap off the seat so fast that not even I know what just happened.

I take another deep breath and sit on the chair once again. I don’t know what I’m feeling, I want to scream, cry, laugh but instead of doing any of those things I just sit and look up at the sky. The sun is starting to appear in horizon, streaks of oranges, yellows, purples, and red light up the sky, the stars are starting to fade and the wind dies down.

After collecting my breath I think back to what just happened. All those memories, are they actually real? I look down at my filthy, ripped plain clothes and I notice there is something in the right pocket. My hand reaches in and pulls out a small crumpled sheet of paper. I open it up, there are words on it.

“Run and don’t look back.”

Isn’t that what I already did? No one can find me in these woods, it’s way to overgrown to navigate much. Wait. I stop my thought and listen, the bushes are rustling, a twig snaps, I turn around a see a silhouette. Before I know it the guns start to fire. They found me! Instantly I start running, not knowing where I’m going and I don’t look back….