It was technically a yard, but I think the word cemetery fit better. A cold, foreign feeling crept up my nose and into my mind, freezing all rational thought as I stared at the place. The swing set lay still, lifeless and pallid, like a corpse. The sandbox had a hole where I’m sure a 12-year-old kid’s body like mine would fit in nicely. The barbecue was open, prepared to immolate a sacrificial meal. The bottle of ketchup, uncapped on the table, was surely a bottle of blood, waiting for a vampire to suck it dry. The dark wooden fence surrounded the whole area, enclosing and trapping me and the deadly things together.
There was no way out.
Up above, the storm clouds started raining, as if already mourning my demise.
A/N: Something I may or may not continue.
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