I was in the park with some friends. Over time they became less and less as they had to go home. Soon I will have to go home as well. I will miss their giggling. Not much though, I will see them tomorrow after all. For now, I need to swing. Higher and Higher. I wonder if I can go all the way around. I hear the wind in my hair. The sun is bearing down on my skin. 

Suddenly I hear metal cracking. I am flying through the air. Time feels like it slows down. I look like I am going to land on the only other metal thing in this playground. A small seesaw. Normally I would be excited to see it. But today I am afraid of it. Metal will go through me. I will become a human skewer. 

I see an old lady at the corner of the park. She leaps over and catches me. How the lady has the energy to do that I don’t know. Maybe it's adrenaline. Or perhaps she is really fit for her age. Either way, she saved me. Stranger danger is a bygone with her heroism. “Now that I have saved you, You are mine” Never mind. Stranger danger is alive and active.

I try to escape her. But she is strong for her age. Clearly, it was not just the adrenaline that saved me. But how long will I have been saved for? I attempt to claw at her with my non-existent nails. Stupid nail biting. I can't escape her grasp. She takes me to a white car. A van would have been more classic. But would stand out in this area. She shoves me in the trunk and locks me in. I try to find the escape latch. They are always in the back. I see the glowing thing that leads to it, only to be met with a cut cord. She thought of everything.

I am stuck in the trunk as we are driving. The extreme smoothness of the road indicates we are going to the new side of the city. The rich part of the city. The park must have security cameras. They will find the culprit. I just hope they find me before I am gone.

We arrived at someplace. We are entering what I assume is her garage. Who can afford a garage in the city? She takes me out of the trunk and I try to fight back. It's to no avail again. I am taken into what I assume is her apartment. Calling it an apartment is an understatement though. The living room alone is the size of a house. The house has a view of the city. I never even noticed us going up. Why is it always the rich ones?

She carries me to the kitchen and shoves me in her oven. I try to stop myself from going in. But I am again overpowered. She must be a powerlifter or something at this point. She locks me in the oven. I never even knew they made ovens with locks. She then turns the heat on. I slam my fists against the door and scream as loud as I can. I am being cooked alive. It burns. It's too hot. My skin is flaking. It feels like leather.

Suddenly I see salvation. Someone is in here. I can't quite make them out. The heat has been messing with my eyes. They open the oven. I reach out into their arms. I am splashed with some substance. It tastes of olive oil and rosemary. The oven is shut and locked again. They were not my savior. 

The heat is unbearable. I can't take it anymore. I heard that your temperature lowers when you sleep. Perhaps that is what I should do. It's the only thing I can think of doing at this point. Sleep.