Overlook Park
who: @flashfanged when: night time
She always liked Overlook Park because of it's slides made out of old steel and railroad ties. When she was very little her dad would bring her up here, she'd climb on top of the old wood and steel, proclaim herself the King of the Park, and fight her dad off like a dragon. It's a memory that used to bring her to a smile, but now she's not really sure how to feel about that, or him, or anything.
Blood's rushing to her head where she lays, inverted, on the cool sheet steel of the old slide - head at the bottom, feet up top - staring up at the sky where the clouds slowly scrape past the moon. Her whole fucking face still hurts. Her fists hurt. Her chest hurts. Her head hurts. Her fucking heart hurts.
The the silver sliver up in the sky, thinning more and more as it head into the dark emptiness of the new moon, sits motionless, and she's relishing the quiet, the calm, the cool. Just her and crickets. The park's meant to be closed at night, but nobody pays attention to that. This becomes obvious when she hears somebody else moving around nearby.
Her head rolls to the side, catches sight of them. Familiar, not sure why. She turns back to her quiet consult with the moon. Then it clicks. October. Streamer. Big Tipper. Before her life as a dog. They probably don't want to be bothered, she reckons. "Police drive by the park at midnight, just so you know, they don't look close though." She hasn't had reason to share that info since High School. The nostalgia almost makes her smile. Almost.
