And They Were Perfect

Ana was feeling horrible and proud. When her parents had began screaming at each other, she had left instead of just sitting and crying in the corner. She had run to the playground, which wasn't too far, and hid in one of the tunnels. She sifted awkwardly, then popped her head out one side. There, on the sidewalk, was a boy, his mother, and a baby carrige coming her way.

She muttered, a little grumpy, since she wanted to be alone, and pulled her blonde head back in. She looked around, then buried her head in her knees, hair flying every which way.

"You okay?" Her head snapped up as the boy stuck his head in her tunnel.

"Go away," she said grumpily, giving him the stink eye.

He frowned. "Don't be mean," he said. "That's not nice."

She shrugged. "I don't care."

"Why?" He asked, curiously.

"Cause I don't," was her reply.

Ana crawled out the oppisite side of the tunnel. She headed over to the slide. "Go away!" She yelled at him. The boy's lip quivered.

"Sorry," he said, quietly. He trudged back to his mom.

"Wait!" Ana called, sighing. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."