Chrysanthemum Rose’s parents were gone. They were perfectly present when she left for school that day, but when came home, they were nowhere to be found. She first looked in the garage, where her mother’s make-shift painting studio resided, but all of the brushes and canvases were untouched. Then she walked up the stairs to peer into her fathers office. She was never quite sure what he did for work, but it had something to do with numbers.

The door creaked as she pushed it open, and she entered the room, lit only by the blue light of the computer. No one was in there either. Chrysanthemum turned around to further explore the house, but before she got to the doorknob, the light of the computer changed, causing her to jump.

“Chrysanthemum Rose” a low voice growled from the computer speaker. Chrysanthemum walked towards the screen, which projected nothing but grey static. “Yes, that’s me.” She said, tilting her head in confusion, her long, blonde, tangled hair falling around her shoulders.

“Are you looking for your parents?” The voice asked, mockingly. “Who are you?” Chrysanthemum asked, crossing her arms. “I’m a friend, little girl. Your parents asked me to tell you where they were.” Chrysanthemum squinted her eyes and twisted her mouth into a pout. “I don’t believe you.” She said.

“Come see for yourself. They’re at the park. They’ve saved the tire swing for you.” The voice chuckled before the computer screen went dark.

Chrysanthemum stood at the computer a second longer before slowly approaching the window. The sky was grey and the scattered piles of frozen snow on the ground were speckled black with dirt. Why would her parents go to the park on a day like this, Chrysanthemum wondered.

After a moment of contemplation, she walked back downstairs to the coat closet. Her parents weren’t at home, so she figured she might as well go outside and look for them. She shoved her feet into green galoshes, tucking her Levi’s into the boots. Over her black and blue striped T-shirt, she adorned a black windbreaker.

Chrysanthemum left her house and began her search to find her parents.

Chrysanthemum’s boots squeaked as she walked down the sidewalk. If she weren’t so focused on finding her parents, she might have noticed the eerie silence of her neighborhood. None of the children were playing, not a chimney was smoking, nor a window lit.

**

After quite a bit of walking, Chrysanthemum reached the iron gates of the playground. She couldn’t see the swing set behind the thick foliage surrounding the park, so she flicked open the latch and pushed the gate open. As she stepped into the park, a brisk wind blew behind her and pushed the gate closed.

Chrysanthemum found the tire swing, but could not find her parents anywhere. She walked up to the swing anyway, just to make sure they weren’t hiding somewhere.

Upon arriving at the swing, she saw nothing. She slumped her shoulders. This was getting bothersome. Why were her parents hiding from her like this, and why would a voice tell her lies from a computer screen? She stepped into the tire swing and sat down for a moments rest. She did walk all the way across town to get here, so she figured she would rest her tired legs before she started on the way home.

After a few minutes at the swing, Chrysanthemum felt energized enough to leave the park for home. She stepped out of the tire, but as she left, she found herself being pulled back by her sleeve. The chain of the tire swing had attached itself to her windbreaker’s sleeve somehow. She struggled with it a bit, trying to carefully remove the sleeve from the chain, but ultimately resorted to pulling her sleeve until the part attached to the swing ripped and her long sleeve turned into a three quarter sleeve.

Chrysanthemum sighed in frustration, but nonetheless started to head back to the park entrance. She had almost reached the iron gate when she heard a familiar voice. “Chryssie dear!” Her mother called from somewhere behind the trees. “Mamma?” Chrysanthemum answered, turning away from the gate to follow the voice. As she walked, she saw two figures waiving to her. She raised her hand to waive back.

Boom.

Chrysanthemum Rose lay on the ground, eyes still open, hand over her head, as if she was waiving to the sky.