This was the playground that they use to play at while they were kids. Where they hung with their fingers curled around the metal bars, counting to see who lasted the longest or unil someone's shoulder came out of it's socket.

This was the sea-saw that she fell off of and bashed her head against.

This was the mulch that she dared the boy she disliked to eat. This was the mulch that he choked on and almost died from.

Her hand trailed along the bright yellow slide.

This was the playground that they made the vow to be best friends for life, for ever and ever past the days that they died. Where they made the vow that they would be at each other's funerals, no matter if they were dead or not. Somehow, they would be there.

This was the playground where they would share their first joint, where one would experience a really bad breakup and one would supply the booze, where they got drunk and stripped to their underwear in the middle of October and plunged into the cold water of the river near the playground.

This was the playground that they had burned ciggerates against the slide until their initials were forever printed.

These were the swings that they sailed into the air with, ever so high, on graduation night. The same night that they had vowed to meet, five years down the road.

She had a feeling she would be the only one who kept this vow. She had arrived early, hoping to encounter memories that would make her eyes tear up, that would erase the anger that she felt towards the old playmates.

They hadn't been at the funeral, even though they promised. Forever and ever, they had said. Forever and ever was a lie, even past the dead.

She leaned against the slide, arms crossed against an unknown chill. Her black trench coat was open, baring the spotted jeans and torn shirt. Her hair whipped around her face, then fell limp to her shoulders.

Ames had arrived, the youngest of the group. She was still skinny, her red hair now black with purple streaks, her achne still bad and pericings that covered her body. She sat on the bench, arms wrapped around her middle.

Stacey was next, with Em right behind her. Stacey had lost her baby-fat and her face finally showed for her beauty with her contacts. Em was still tall, but no longer lanky. They sat on either side of Ames and hugged her while she started to cry.

Next came Squid with her hand in Nickle's, the only guy of the group. He had gotten chubbier, but still hadmassive unruly hair. He held a box under one arm. Squid let go of his hand to collapse onto the group of girls, her long brown hair was still there, her achne gone.

They had come.

They had remembered.

She felt her eyes tear up. She opened her mouth to speak, but knew they wouldn't hear her if she tried.

This was the playground that started the friendship.
"I can't believe this," Ames wailed.

Nickles set the box at their feet and took out a lighter. "I gathered some of the letters she wrote to us, and her clothes, some of her books. I thought we could burn them and scatter them around."

"Like ashes," Squid said.
"She would have appreciated this," Stacey said.
Em pulled a bottle out of her purse and poured it over the box.
A man appeared in front of her, and she unfolded her arms, taking her view away from her friends. "I told you I would wait for you, love."
She held out a hand, the scars visable on her wrist. Their hands entwined, and he pulled her into a hug. They walked away from the playground that started it all, that they had shared their first kiss under, that they had made love at, that he had proposed at.

As they walked away, the bright yellow slide erupted in flames, slowly burning the past away.