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<<set $items to 0>>There's a [[sign]].
Before you, is a split in the road.
*go to the left, toward the [[outdoor gazebo]]?
*go right, toward the [[swings]]?"Trailhead Park" it reads.
Last year they updated the sign from the uncoated, faded wooden post.
Everything changes.You move toward the bazebo with it's [[classic benches]], perfect for parties and picnics that you never really got to have here. From here you can hear the sounds of children screaming and laughing get louder.
You see the [[old fountain]] and the [[old green doors]].
*Head toward the [[playground]] ahead?
*Head left toward the [[swings]]?
*Go back to the [[entrance->TrailHead Park Entrance]].
The closer you get to the [[swings->swingExamine]] the more you can hear the children's gleeful yelling.
Two young children propell themselves on the swings, the source of the squealing. Close by hovers two adults, probably their parents, trying to engage in conversation and pretend like they aren't closely surveilling their respective children.
The backdrop of the swings is a [[tall grassy wall]], all nestled underneath the [[green tarpaulin]] stretched over the whole play area.
*Move back toward the [[troll bridge]].
*Go right to the [[playground]].
*Go back to the [[entrance->TrailHead Park Entrance]]. The benches are a dark brown. They're good at absorbing the Texas heat in the summer and become nearly impossible to sit on.
These benches always remind you of:
the weird awkward date (if you could call it that) you had with a boy you didn't like but couldn't feel like you could say no to,
the birthday your mom planned that you were embarrassed to have but was secretly happy about,
the shenaniganes you and your friends would plan around the strangely shaped rectangles.
You intend to leave all these memories right there. Where the benches are nailed into the cement floor.
[[return->outdoor gazebo]] There's only one water fountain in the entire park.
It's green from rust. In the fountain's history there has been an infintesmal amount of mouths that have touched it and you can never forget that. The water always tastes just a bit tin-y.
[[return->outdoor gazebo]]As you move closer, you hear a distant flush.
You've lived here for, what, nine years? and you had no idea this place had a bathroom.
Too bad that information won't help you anymore.
[[return->outdoor gazebo]] The squealing gets louder. The source of it, you find running and jumping on the brand [[new playset]] they recently installed.
Beside it is a [[basketball court]] beneath a tall [[grassy hill]].
*Move forward down the long winding [[trail]]?
*Go back to the [[outdoor gazebo]]. There's something that has always irked you about this wall of grass.
Ever since your friend (if you could call him that) burst from inside after peeing from inside it, you've never quite shaken the feeling that...
someone could be...
watching you.
[[return->swings]] When you kicked your legs hard enough you could propell yourself high enough to stare up at the top of the tent.
You imagined every layer you would see all at once.
Tent.
Clouds.
Sky.
Space.
Stars.
Sun.
Him, looking down on you, smiling?
How fun it was to imagine you were anywhere else.
[[return->swings]] Below the street that ran along the park was a bridge. The bridge had three lanes, a [[left lane->lane]], [[middle lane->lane]], and [[right lane->lane]].
*go back to the [[swings]]. Now, you're older.
Your hips have outgrown the small swings.
Recently they added coated plastic onto the chains.
You can still remember the agonizing pinch of the steel chains on the webs of your fingers when you swung with too much eagerness.
[[return->swings]] Kids these days...
They'll never know the pain of getting splinters lodged in your fingers.
They'll never know the discombobulation of smacking your head straight against a beam/entryway.
Some call what we had a playground, but perhaps //painground// is much more suited.
Every//thing// you remember has been replaced. But do those memories stay?
[[return ->playground]]
There was a time when you tried to fit in with the boys but...you were always too short and too lacking in coordination to be able to even get the ball in the dumb hoop.
Basketball is a dumb sport for tall people.
[[return->playground]] Walking on this hill used to take you to such daydreams:
Imagining picking these flowers for someone you loved.
Imagining enjoying picnics on this hillside.
It's a beautiful hill, ripe for daydreaming.
[[return->playground]] The path winds and ebbs and flows. Made from old cracked street cement. They never got around to updating it when they changed everything else.
You're sure the cement wasn't always there, though.
Past the [[graffiti rock]],
Beyond the omonous [[bench and trash can]] combo,
Away from the boyscout-made [[fencing]],
*go back to the [[playground]].
*You [[finally reach it->Camp McTex Lake]].Blue indecipherable graffiti.
Always marking the exit and entrance of the trails.
Maybe the only thing that hasn't changed since you moved here.
[[return->trail]] After too long of deciphering the twists and turns of the trails,
The brush cleared away to find two benches with a trash can right in the middle. It was a strange sight after all the natural flora and stone pathways.
It always felt like a decisive period to the sentence that was the trails, even though past the benches was where the more interesting hikes and trails and views of nature were.
[[return->trail]] Down this pathway was a tretcherous and steep hike down
big boulders and moss covered rocks.
The boyscouts thought an even more rickety, splintery wooden fence would help people traverse the steep decline.
I don't think I've ever used it.
[[return->trail]] Finally after the trek that is always just long enough to make you question if you passed it or if you haven't reached it, before you:
''Camp McTex Lake''
Megan named it, years ago when you were kids, when you found it after a couple days of heavy flash floods and rains.
The [[river bed]] that was usually dry and empty, now was running and flowing again after yesterday's flash floods.
Not really a lake or a camp but it sure was [[Texas]].
<<if $items is 2>>
The narrow [[path of rocks]] across the river, call out to you.
<<endif>><<set $items to $items + 1>>Like magic, ''Camp McTex Lake'' only visited after heavy rains. Otherwise, it was just a pile of rocks.
The water, however rare, transformed a boring river bed into a magical ravine that took us to a place that wasn't Texas. It was a forest somewhere else, in a better world.
[[return->Camp McTex Lake]] <<set $items to $items+1>>
You guess...you're ready to go. Somewhere else that isn't..here.
You've never known a world besides Texas and you hope...
It's better out there, than here.
[[return->Camp McTex Lake]]
How many times did we stand on these rocks?
Throwing sticks and rocks into the river?
Where did they all go down the river?
Where do they all end up?
Where will //you// end up?
[[return->end]] Each lane lead to a big (sometimes) green grassy field. This field for me and Megan turned into any number of magical and wonderous scenes of exploration and adventure.
Flood plains, a canvas so blank and full of possibility.
[[return->troll bridge]] There's no where else to return to.
It's time for you to move on.
It's time for you to leave and make new memories.
All your life, you've wanted to get out, and now is your chance.
Why now do you cling on to the past?
Why now that you must let it go, do you hold on so tight?
It's time to [[go]]."Bye."
You mutter as you leave the park, for the last time.
[[restart->TrailHead Park Entrance]]