My name is Sarah, I'm 28 years old and I am female. I don't like to think about my past problems. I go to therapy often as an attempt to forget what happened during my childhood with my old friends. However a recent experience brought this dread back and I will tell my story. From the start.

I stood at the edge of the playground, watching as my friends played a game of tag. I was never much of a runner, so I usually just watched from the sidelines.

But today, something felt different. The air was thick and heavy, and a sense of unease settled over me.

"Hey, are you coming or not?" One of my friends called out.

I hesitated, but then I shook my head and joined in. I didn't want to be left out.

As we ran and laughed, the darkness seemed to close in around us. The swings creaked ominously in the wind, and the slide seemed to loom overhead.

Suddenly, one of my friends stumbled and fell. She looked up at me with fear in her eyes.

"I can't move," she said. "Something's holding me down."

I looked around, but I didn't see anything. I grabbed her hand and tried to pull her up, but it was like she was stuck to the ground.

"Help me!" she cried.

I frantically called out to the others, but they were too far away to hear. I was alone, with my friend trapped and something lurking in the shadows.

I didn't know what to do. I was scared, but I knew I had to save her. I took a deep breath and pulled with all my might.

But I was only a kid, no matter how hard I tugged and how much I pulled, it was no use. I failed to save my friend as the Earth just seemed to swallow them whole. I froze for a while, in fear. I ran away after a few seconds to catch up with my friends. I'm exhausted.

Except, I was stupid then. I never told them what happened to my other friend. I was too scared. I really regret not informing any of them. I simply said they went home and later on, they are reported missing.

I never played that game again. I never ever spoke of what happened. And my abnormal fear of playgrounds and childhood games form, as did my regrets of not being able to save them.

As the years passed, I never forgot what happened that day at the playground. We grew up and moved on with our lives, but the memory of that terror stayed with MD.

I go to therapy like I mentioned, I am yet to tell my therapist of how I'm responsible for their death.

I try to put it behind me though on my own, but I can't and I most likely never will be able to. but every now and then, something would trigger a memory and the fear would come flooding back.

Here is what happened, what made me want to tell everyone here about what happened to me.

I was walking down the street when I saw a group of kids playing tag on the sidewalk. I felt a pang of nostalgia, but also a sense of dread.

I hurried past them, not wanting to be reminded of that day. But then I heard a voice whisper in my ear, just like it did all those years ago.

I turned, but no one was there. I shook my head, telling myself it was just my imagination.

But then I heard the voice again, louder this time. It was taunting me, mocking me.

"What the fuck do you want from me!?" I cried out loud, screaming. People were staring at me.

I ran as fast as I could, trying to escape the memories and the fear. But it was always there, lurking in the shadows.

I knew I couldn't run forever. Sooner or later, I would have to face the fear and confront what happened that day at the playground.

But I wasn't sure if I was strong enough. The fear had a grip on me, and it wasn't letting go.

I tried to focus on other things, to distract myself from the memories. But they always came back, haunting me in my dreams and my waking moments.

I felt like I was losing my mind. I was desperate for a way out, but I didn't know where to turn.

Then I turned through an alleyway. To be honest it wasn't smart. That's when it grabbed me, the same invisible force that took my friend.

I didn't really fight anymore. I deserved this. I couldn't save my friend, so why should I save myself?

If I could go back in time, I would've been the one taken instead.

Maybe it was out of pity, maybe it was for me to suffer longer. But the entity, whatever it was, released me. I was panting heavily and cold sweat flowed from me, and my clothes stained with said sweat.

I get back up and immediately go to my apartment. And in this same apartment, I type this for anyone who reads. I'll be responding, at least I will try.