Off the side road leading into the darkened forest, a small playground sits. Being unused for nearly a decade, the park was covered in webs and mold. Trash from years prior rotted onto the mulch flooring, adding an extra level of filth to the playground.

But even though no one alive decided to visit, the ghost children did. Echoes of laughter floated between the tall trees, along with the sounds of squealing. Ten whole years they had been playing the same games, singing the same songs, and knowing the same people. They all itched for a change. They wanted something different. They wanted to play with someone alive.

Almost a full month would go by before they got their chance. A little girl by the name of Amy, and her mother, Violetta Fawn, had accidentally taken a wrong turn, leading them deeper into the woods. Gravel crunched under their tires as they continued to drive down the darkening road.

A thick fog seemed to suddenly appear, revealing another path to suddenly reveal itself, and Violetta groaned. “Hey, Amy? Mommy’s going to check her map, and then we’ll continue on our way.”

“OK! Can I go to the cool-looking playground over there?” Amy now had her small face pressed against the glass, staring in awe at the playground. She could even see a few kids playing on it from where she sat.

“Sure, sure.” Her mom said with little thought. The map was seemingly blurring in her hands. It felt as if someone kept changing the image every few seconds and every time she turned it to get a better view. She didn’t even realize that her daughter had left the car for another five minutes.

Amy rushed out of the car and over to the playground, not noticing all of the decay. The ghosts had cleaned up their mess before the girl had come over. They couldn’t have their new friend being scared away, now could they?

“Hi, guys!” Amy yelled as she came closer, the children didn’t even look over. They knew they no longer had normal eyes. Their eyes were dark as night, and the stain of constant tears never went away. “Do you guys want to play a game with me?”

One of the ghosts, the oldest among them at age 9, smirked. “How about a game of tag.” He said flatly, his voice floating through the air like a wisp of smoke. “If we win, you have to stay here a little longer. If you win, the next game is your pick.”

The game only lasted a few seconds. Amy was caught quickly, and using all of the force they had, the ghosts pulled Amy into a dead tree stump with a hollowed-out middle. No one would find her or her mother’s bodies.

In fact, Violetta passed on, but Amy . . . in the three months that she’s been dead, rage has fueled her every move. She couldn’t wait any longer. She wanted to make a new friend. And she wanted them to be alive.