The Cursed Swing

 They killed her Because She Was Black, Now It's Her Turn

Prologue

"Playing on the swing is strictly prohibited. Stay away from this play area". This girl ignored the warning sign. Her white skin, freckle cheek, outfit and shoes divulged that she is born elite. She crouched under the "Do not enter" tape, passed over the danger area, sat on the wooden swing. The creaking noise was not pleasing to the ears. The surreal calmness and creepy dense trees around the park made people feel nervous. She didn't pay attention to the ominous signs. Leaves rustled, twigs cracked and a mild breeze brought the girl to reality. The rustling noises grew, which got the girl scared, and she could hear the footsteps approaching her. This time she paid heed to her instincts, jumped down from the swing, ran for her life, leaving the shoes behind.

Rumors are true. The haunting woman is lurking around the swing. She hugged her doll, covered her under the blanket while trying to calm her nerves. The bed lamp let out occasional flickers; no way she would turn off the light. The flickering noises grew with the approaching footsteps. She closed her eyes as tight as she could. A silhouette casts the shadow under the bed lamp. She opened her eyes and witnessed the shadow in terror; she knew the ghastly figure is the haunted woman from the cursed swing. The girl found dead the next morning.

1 - Then

Every day while crossing this park, I glimpsed at the swing without fail. I could not enter this park; nor play the swing. By the time I understood, our dark skin is the reason; I have lost my mother. She loves to ride on this swing. From her childhood, she fancied the thoughts and would often sneak into the park by the dark to have her flying lessons. I loved to ride on the swing too, and the last time I did, they killed my mother right before my eyes while she was protecting me.

2 - Now

The detectives sealed the girl's bedroom, dusted for clues. They were confident they would find nothing except a woman's footprints. If analyzed, the prints will be identical to the shoes of a dead woman, who was killed in the park. The cops don't buy the paranormal activity, a dead black woman seeking revenge on white people who killed her for riding the swing. But they had to listen to people's sentiments because this is the second girl killed after playing the swing. Cops found the girl's shoe in the park.

The wooden plank on the swing bears the word in crimson red written from the blood of a dead girl "Mine". They tried to remove the swing forever to avoid further mishaps. It was rusty and the effort to dispose of had failed miserably. They left to come again tomorrow with the tools. Later that night, the guy who tried to remove the swing died in a car accident. The locals believed the black woman haunted him, but the cops knew it was drunk and drive. Further, no attempts made to eliminate the swing. 

I woke up to see my blanket wrapped around me. I don't remember doing it before I slept. The shoes of my mother are laying under the bed. Panic struck me, I knew what these signs specifically mean. A girl is dead. Is that true my mother's spirit is killing them all?. These people harassed and ridiculed us. I or my mother never had the guts to rise against them. Then who is responsible for murders?

"I am going to screw that bitch" he roared and paced himself towards the restricted area.

"Leave me. I will see what this bitch will do to me" people tried to hold him, and their valiant efforts failed to save his life.

I watched him from behind the tree. He sat on the swing, made a mockery, and wrote in white bold letters.

Bitch

"Now you have seen me. I am waiting for you. Come on and get me. I will kill you the same way I did before" he laughed hysterically.

My head began pulsating, I hoped this guy to not die. But I knew it was too late.

3 - Then

Being a widow from a discriminated society, my mom had faced the worse of humiliation. I remember the day when we were shopping; she looked happy as she was buying me clothes. A woman who works in the store felt skeptical of us. She presumed we were stealing and they strip-searched my mother in public. Our skin color and race supplied them with these thoughts. My mother left the place dragging me, crying all the way. That was the first time I had my first panic attack. I would get drowsy and sleep for hours.

At the workplace, by neighbors, wherever we go, they victimized us. The church doesn't allow us inside on Sundays. However, my mother was happy because of me. She hides those pain and fear, loves me as nothing had happened. But I was not spared either. Freckled cheek girl and her gang used to taunt me, rag, and humiliate me. They will ransack my locker in the school, shoving trash and shit. My books and notes will contain exotic words of the same meaning - slut, whore, pimp, etc. Sometimes these girls will strip my underwear and stuff in my mouth.

They had never stopped harassing, even after my mother died. One day while I was returning home, the freckled cheek girl and her friends dragged me to the hedges and forced my face on dog shit. I lost my sanity and shouted my lungs out. They got panicked, left me there. The third time I got drowsy and fell on the ground. When I regained my senses, I was sitting under the tree in the park; the words slut and whore stroked out in black ink. I neither remember how I got here nor who did this in my book.

4 - Now

I desired to see my mother. She will be there to kill him. I paced myself towards his house; I do wear my mom's shoes believing she will come for it. I tiptoed along the fence, reached the window of his room. He was not in his bed. I wondered where he is gone. Suddenly, a forceful hand yanked my hair back.

"What this little bitch doing here?" he clutched my neck.

"I am sorry, my mother… I came to see her" I choked under his mighty fists.

"Oh, your mother going to kill me?. Let's see if she comes to rescue you"

He slapped across my face. Then kicked in the abdomen. I fell on the ground in agonizing pain and his approaching image faded before I blanked out.

5

I woke up in the morning with a familiar sight. Bedsheets wrapped around me, mom's shoes at the same location. How do I get here?. I remember the guy hitting me. My mom again? Has she saved me? Disoriented, I got out of the bed, ran to the guy's place again.

Cops were inquiring his neighbors. My mother performed her act. While I was returning to my home, I noticed several people gathered around the park. Between the commotion, I could see the word "Bitch" stroked out in blood. I smiled. I ached to see her, but she never befalls when I am awake.

6

Yes. I never appear when she is awake. But I am not her mother. I obliged to protect her which her mother tried until she died. While they were both returning home, the girl wanted to play in the swing. Her mother refused first since they are unwelcomed in public parks. This girl was adamant, and the mother relented. While they were playing, people crowded and began abusing them. They shouted at them to get out of the park.

One guy from the crowd started beating the mother. People joined him and pelting stones at them. Mother hugged the girl trying to protect and succeeded by dying at the end. The girl whimpered and whimpered, fell unconscious near her mother. There I was born. Not for the first time though. I first emerged when her mother was strip-searched and both were crying helplessly. They don't fight back. They won't. As a result, she died unable to shield the girl from these psychotic humans. I will protect her. I will kill anyone who gets into her life. I will make her life happy, I will let her play in the swing. Only her. Not anyone. This will be the cursed swing for others.

First, I killed one abuser from the gang who played in the swing to mark my territory. Next, this freckled cheek girl. Third, the guy who beat the mother. I kill everyone who lay their hands on the swing.

I wake up after she sleeps, wears her mom's shoes, and goes on haunting them. I come back, see her lovely little face, embrace ourselves with blankets, and rest peacefully. I will protect her forever.