“I’ve been in the dark long enough to know… some things don’t want to be found.”
There’s an old story in my town.
About a little girl…
who never grew up.
They say she died in 1963.
Collapsed on a carousel.
Buried too quickly.
Some people believe…
she wasn’t dead yet.
I used to laugh at that.
Until I went there.
The old fairgrounds were empty.
Rotting wood.
Broken rides.
A carousel frozen in place…
like it was still waiting.
At first…
nothing.
Just my footsteps.
Then—
tap… tap