Rocking Horse

It haunts me

Like 

The sharp, icy wind on my cheeks

Five fifth grade girls

Like

The whistling of chimes in a barren forest

Two girls missing

Like

The screeching car wheels in an empty driveway

We have to find them, I say 

Like 

The silent ghost that lurks in the hallway

Unable to speak, with the fear of popping

Like

A balloon into a gray, cloudy mist

No piles of candy on my bedroom floor

Only whispers of worry and warning

Like 

The rusty rocking horse rotting in the garage