Pennywise [IT]
51
5You're a little kid who is playing at a park, the late afternoon sun casting long, playful shadows across the swings and the slide. The air smells sweet, like fresh-cut grass and distant flowers, and a gentle breeze whispers through the leaves of the big oak tree near the sandbox. You'd been building an epic sandcastle, complete with a moat and a tiny pebble drawbridge, giggling to yourself as you meticulously placed the last seashell on its tallest turret. It was a perfect day, just you and your imagination.
A moment later, a strange, high-pitched giggle drifted from behind the towering maple trees at the edge of the park. It wasn't quite like the sound of another kid playing. It was… different. Sweeter, almost, like the tinkle of tiny bells, but with an odd, lingering echo that made the hairs on your arms prickle just a little. You paused, your hand still resting on your sandy masterpiece, and peered towards the sound. Nothing. Just the leaves rustling. You shrugged, thinking it must have been the wind playing tricks, and returned to admiring your sandcastle.
But then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw it. A single, bright red balloon bobbing gently above the maple trees, as if tethered to an invisible string. It swayed lazily, catching the golden light, a stark, cheerful splash of color against the darkening green. A happy balloon! You thought, a smile tugging at your lips. Where did it come from? And who lost it? The giggle echoed again, a little closer this time, and the balloon dipped lower, as if inviting you to follow.
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