This story is fictional. Any resemblance to persons or events are purely coincidental. No offence is intended by this story. Any views represented in this piece are strictly that of the author and are not representative of anyone else's view or opinions. Some elements of this story are based on real events whilst others are totally fictional.
The red-haired girl swung listlessly on the swings, not making too much effort to keep herself in motion, but still not stopping all the same. Her bloodied shirt was dry now, she had been sat there waiting all this time. She knew they would find her eventually, but still she sat, contemplating the last few days of her life. It should have been a normal few days, much like anyone else's, but for one reason or another, things had gone wrong as they sometimes did. Only this time things had gotten out of control.
She felt her shirt, now crisp with dried blood, a tear making it's mark in the crimson red of what had been a white shirt. Her jeans had been covered too, spatters of blood painted across the faded blue denim like a child's painting of an explosion. They were ruined, as was her life now. She wondered why she had remained behind after the incident, why she hadn't faced death with the others. Her red hair flopped over her shoulders as she kept her head hung down, a few tears escaping from her sapphire eyes, some remaining on the lens of her black, thin-rimmed glasses.
In the distance the sound of sirens could be heard. They were getting closer, but she didn't run. There would have been no point. She probably could have gotten away, but they would have found her in the end. No, it was better to be found now and face what had happened instead of running away. That would only make things worse. As the sirens stopped and the blue flashing lights came to a rest near her, she stopped the swing and stood up, not bothering to brush the hair out of her face. Without being asked, she walked towards the car and allowed herself to be seated in the back. She could hear what was being said, but it didn't matter. She didn't have to listen to know what they were saying to her.
The siren flared up again as the car moved off, swung round to face the direction it had come from and sped off, alarming a few unwary drivers on the other side of the road.
She was ok now, it was all over. What had been done would never go away, but she once they were in that building it wouldn't matter. She would recite the incident, and matters would be taken care of. Through the glass window she could see that it had begun to rain, the clouds a soft grey, covering the sky like a soft downy blanket. A sense of serenity ran through the girl. It was finally over.