Miranda
I had escaped the house again, running as always to my safe haven to get away from one of my father’s drunken tirades. On most days the small park was normally quiet and empty, and I could have the swings all to myself, letting all of my problems fly out of me. Today was not one of those days. Her arms were wrapped around the chains, rocking her feet against the ground so that she moved slightly back and forth. Her black hair hung in two braided pigtails on either side of her head, and a pair of glasses sat on the bridge of her nose. But what caught me was the lollipop that sat between her lips; lips that were as cherry red as the candy she was sucking on. I watched as her …