I looked at the old swim that hung from the Cyprus tree. Moss hung from its branches, the wind rocking the freaking swing back and forth. I felt a sense of homesickness creep up from inside of me, memories flooding my brain from my childhood. The hours we spent swinging back and forth on those hot summer nights and dumbing the winter we would build small snowmen and put them on the wooden board that was covered in ice. I felt a sense of longing to go back to those days when the only worry we had was that we had school the next day.
But when I looked at the swing a sense of deep sadness fell numbly over me. It hadn’t been that long, it couldn’t have been that long. We were just swinging yesterday right? But it wasn’t true. We had grown up and every dream we had turned into nothing but a 9 to 5. When we were young we dreamed of flying to the moon in a cardboard box or diving down to live with sharks. When had we given up on them? When did we grow up and met the world steal our dreams right out from under us?
“I guess he’s kinda cute.” My friend whispered. He was… except his nose was a little bruised and so was his eye. What can I say he put up a fight. “I just can’t believe you kidnapped him…again” She sighed.
I grinned as he woke up. “I swear this is the third time this month!” He shouted. My friend looked at him sympathetically.
“I really am sorry.” She said and he looked at her like he did every time he saw her. With a slight smile on his face and a glint in his eyes.
I looked down at him. Blood trickled from his lips down his chin. He had a jagged cut down the side of his face. I bit back the tears, refusing to show them all the pain that numbly spread through my chest. I knelt down and tan my fingers through his damp hair. “Hunt down the traitor, bring him back to me… alive!” I screamed as the tears slipped down my face.