Creative Writing: The Park Breach

I woke up on a wooden park bench clad only in my Spiderman pajamas, my body shivering uncontrollably from the dampness in the chilled October air. A white carpet of mist hung lazily a few inches off the ground, making the park appear as if it were floating on a cloud. It was the middle of the night and the only lamp in the park stands silently beside the park bench, a lone soldier on guard for the things that lurk in the dark. The lamp didn’t shine its protective light. Rocks and broken glass lay scattered on the ground around the pitted cement base of the lamp pole and the safety and warmth of the rising sun was still hours away. There was, however, a full moon high above which gave everything in the park a supernatural ambience. There wasn’t much to see anyway, the park bench,

Ding! Ding! Sounds the dinner bell. "Frightened and tender little boy for desert." Their raspy voices whispered in my head. "Drumstick or a wing? How about some eyeballs? Nothing tastier than frightened little boy eyeballs. Squeeze the head until they pop out and chew them up. Gooey goodness." I was seeing shadow monsters everywhere; my imagination bringing them to life. Where are my parents, I thought? Why did they leave me out here all alone? Who leaves a six- year- old child alone in the park to fend for himself in the dark hours of the night? I wanted to run home, but I was too scared to move. I didn’t know how to get home because I didn’t recognize this place. I have never been here before. This wasn’t the park where I always played. I will just sit here and wait until my mother and father come to get me. I picked my bare feet up off the ground and tucked them under my legs. There could be something underneath the bench waiting to grab my feet and pull me under.