Stepping Back in Time - Original Writing

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Stepping Back in Time - Original Writing

The paths are still familiar even though I was only 11 when I left

this place. The wind blows. The brown leaves on the ground lift and I

pull my coat tighter around me. I pass the tree which I used to climb

when I was younger. Even though the branches are bare I can picture it

in all its green splendor vividly in my head. The wind whips my hair

into my face. I push it away and see a face hurrying in the opposite

direction but its not one I recognize. As I turn the corner I see a

group of teenagers hanging around by the now chipped bottle green

bridge but none of them are the familiar faces I'm used to. They are

strangers to me.

I decide to go under the bridge to get shelter from the wind and the

people. For a reason that I don't know, I feel scared of the gang of

faces with no names. The lights are dim and flickering while some

bulbs are smashed. The whole effect is quite eerie. There's so much

graffiti everywhere but I can't resist reading about how Tom loves

Louise and who was here in whatever year. As I emerge out of the steps

at the other end I have to tread carefully to avoid treading on the

copious amounts of chewing gum. I look behind me and I see the

teenagers staring at me. I quicken my pace. My quickened pace turns

into a jog and I breathe a sigh of relief once I have turned the

corner.

I remember the bright blue river, only in the dark all I can see is

litter bobbing along the surface. The roundabout is still here in the

playground, only it's covered in graffiti, turning gently in the wind

as if being pushed by an invisible person. The swings next to it creak

gently. I want to sit down but they look so worn that I worry that it

could collapse at any moment.

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