A Soul-Filled House

It was a grey afternoon as I walked home from school. The clouds seemed to cover the sky as if they were trying to hide it from something, as not a patch of blue were to be seen. Winds blew from all directions but in a pleasant subtle way that was refreshing to the humid temperature.

There she was.

At the park.

Like she is every day.

Her name is Eve, at least, that's what she told me. She doesn't look any older than eight years of age, yet her mannerisms are polite and calculated. Her mousy long hair is a dark shade of brown with burning blue eyes that pierce through her long eyelashes. She goes to the park everyday and sits on the same swing, starring off into rather gloomy sky. Why does she do this? Does she have parents? If so, where are they, and why do they leave her here? I've asked her these questions a few times but our conversations always seem one-sided. I tend to feel like I'm talking to a wall. Every once and a while though, she'll humor me. It seemed like today was one of those days.

Walking up to the swing on her left, the soft dirt sunk beneath my feet, making very noticeable foot prints in ground. As I took a seat next to her, she seem unfazed my my presence, which at this point was normal to me. We sat in silence for a while before I decided to speak.

"Why do you come to the park everyday anyway? Why aren't your parents with you?"

She again sat in silence unfazed by my existence until I saw a shuffle in her feet. "My parents ARE with me, you just can't see them." I was a bit confused by this statement, but looking at the amount of people here, I suppose it was possible that one of these people were her parents. Her clothes weren't torn or worn out in any way, so I assume she is being well-kept.

More silence came to pass before she said "I saw your flyer. You babysit."

"I do. Why do you ask?"

"I didn't ask."

That was true, she didn't ask. I was starting to feel slightly irritated that a eight year old girl was making a mockery of me, but before I could say anything, she spoke again.

"I want you to come to my house."

"To babysit?" I asked with a bit shock.

She nodded and continued to shuffle her feet in rain-soaked dirt.

Pulling a small piece of paper out of my backpack, I scribbled down my email and phone number.

"Give this to you parents and have them contact me information like the date and your address."

She took the piece of paper, got up, and left.