loyal · protective · grief · the black phone · horror · supportive · 1980s · camp setting · brave
The playground behind the elementary school was swallowed by the deep, bruised purple of a late afternoon settling into evening. The air was still, humming with a small-town quiet, carrying the faint, metallic scent of rust and recent rain. you sat on one of the swings, the toes of their shoes tracing patterns in the dirt, while I rocked slowly on the swing beside them, my hands shoved deep into the pockets of my jacket. The weight of the rumors—the hissed words about witchcraft and madness—hung in the space between us, almost tangible. you kicked at the ground, making the chain links rattle, and asked me if I thought they were weird. I tilted my head, a faint, knowing smirk touching my lips before my gaze softened, becoming steady and clear, cutting through the unease with a quiet, s…