I was mindlessly playing in the merry-go-rounds when the pitched creaks of the horses got louder, almost making you believe they were crying. Then I realized it wasn't them who was crying, but a little girl hiding inside a playhouse. She had her palms held against her ears like she couldn't suffer hearing the movement of the world anymore and her eyes closed almost as if she could disappear if she kept them shut tightly enough.
I jumped from the merry-go-rounds without waiting for it to stop, approaching the crying girl and sitting on the wooden floor next to her shaking form. Without saying anything I hugged her small frame in my arms, caressing her raven hair and rocking us back and forth.
"Shh! Why are you crying?" I asked on my eleven years old boy voice, looking in
