Glenn woke up gasping for air. His tshirt was covered in sweat and his hands were trembling.

'Another bad dream?' said his brother.

A strip of daylight fell through a crack in the curtain. A cold, morning chill ran through Glenn's feet as he stumbled out of bed. He slapped his hands over his face. He pinched his nostrils which flared with each deep breath, and then grabbed both of his puffy cheeks.

'Terrible dream,' said Glenn. 'I dreamt that Gwendolyn died.'

His brother shrugged from the opposite end of the room. He was still immersed in his bed, half dazed and uncaring.

'In the dream I broke up with her.. and.. she was devastated.. and..'

His brother groaned and sat up.

'You're not going to tell me the whole thing are you?'

'She was crying and there was so much blood. We were in the park and she was covered in rusty, blue bars. Gwendolyn was trapped. Buried. And I couldn't save her.'

'Big deal. It was just a dream.'

Glenn squeezed his eyes and the images appeared again. Her lifeless, pale face with hollow eyes staring back up at him. The parents sobbing at her funeral. The black line of suits and dresses queing up at her grave to pay respects.

'No, you don't understand.' Said Glenn. 'I was going to meet her today. I was going to break up with her.'

Glenn's brother opened one eye lazily. He shrugged.

'I could see her tears. And then falling. It felt very real.'

Glenn felt the cold wooden pannels on his feet.

'I can't break up with her now. Not after that.'

He started pacing manically.

'Don't break up with her then.'

The floor creaked with each step.

'I've already told her I'll meet her at the park today. I told her we needed to talk.'

'Then phone her? Cancel the meeting.'

Glenn looked around nervously. 'She doesn't have a phone. I'll have to meet her.'

Glenn ran downstairs and into the kitchen. His parents were up early. His father was sitting at the table at the grand, oak table with a broadsheet and a white mug of coffee beside him. The rustling papers lowered and a grave face appeared.

'My dad.. Your grandad.. He's in hospital again.'

'Oh,' said Glenn awkwardly. 'What happened?'

'He fell down the stairs. His mind it's..' Glenn's father looked into the distance and sighed.'You're grandfather's mind isn't what it used to be. He is slowing down with old age. You understand that, don't you?'

His mother sat down at the table and sipped from an identical white mug. Her faded brown hair was already curled up and her cheeks were dabbed with red blush.

'Are you coming with us to the hospital?' she said.

'I would..' hesitated Glenn. 'I have to see Gwendolyn today though. I've arranged to meet her in a few hours.'

His father nodded and returned to his broadsheet. His mother sipped from the drink. Glenn was hypnotised by the steam coming out of the coffee. Cloudy steam rising from the rim and disappearing into nothingness.

'Have you seen my mobile?' said Glenn. 'I really need it.'

'That old thing? You never use it,' she dismissed.

He darted out of the kitchen and went to their small, antique-looking living room. Wooden cabinets were stacked up against moving in boxes.

'Are you sure you didn't pack it in your suitcase when we moved in last week?' called out his mother.

'No, no..' muttered Glenn.

He started digging through the boxes. His fingers ran through stacks of paper and old appliances. As he rummaged inside he could hear his mother talking in a quieter voice. 'I'm worried for you,' she said.

'Don't be,' he whispered.

'Your great grandfather had it.. Your grandfather had it.. Your dad has it..'

'No one's saying it's inherited.' He hissed.

'And no one's saying it's not. What if you get dementia. What about our children? What if they get it?'

Glenn stopped rumaging and leaned closer to the wall. His ears were pressed against the bricks but the sound was too faint. After a pause, the kitchen door slammed and the voices became muffled. He could just about his hear his Dad.

'Glenn's only 15. I'm sure they'll have a cure when he reaches old age.'

He flopped his back against the floor. The images of Gwendolyn still ran through his mind like a furious current. He could hear her fragile last breaths. The blood intermittently appeared drenched over his skin as quickly as it vanished.

'Granddad..'

The old man wheezed in the beige armchair.

'You need to stop losing your things,' he said.

'I thought.. I thought you were in hospital.'

Glenn stepped closer and eyed the angry face. Silver spindles of eyebrow sunk deep into their sockets. The swollen, purple lower lip trembled above the wrinkled chin.

'Keep your mind healthy he uttered. Or you'll end up like me.'

'Grandad.. I..'

-

The morning sky was a bright, blue stream. The flowers in the front garden were blossoming and there was a sweet smell in the air. Bees buzzed. An icecream van chimed in the distance.

'Got to see Gwendolyn, got to see Gwendolyn,' he said frantically to himself.

He dragged his pushbike out of the garage and hopped onto the seat. He pushed down on the pedals and took off down the neighbourhood, soaring down the road. The wind rushed through his short hair and his legs pumped harder for speed. The bike steered out of the neighbourhbood and into a stretch of greenery.

'Gwendolyn!' he called out.

Amongst the trees and grass was a small park situated in the center. It has a spindly set of swings, a silver slide and a climbing frame. His heart skipped a beat. There she was. Perched innocently on the top of the rusty blue frame, watching the clouds and waiting for Glenn. He leapt off of his bike and raced towards her. Her large, hazel eyes inspected him as he stopped short of the frame, looking down on him as he panted for breath.

'Glenn..' she said dully. Her face was wrenched with angst. 'Are you going to break up with me?'

He paused and caught her daring eyes.

'Because meeting me here.. Telling me you want to talk.. I've been up all night worried.'

Glenn straightened his back.

'Please, just get down. Let me explain,' he said.

An electrifying current ripped through his shoulder blades and down his spine.

'My back..' he said suddenly. He stumbled forward as the muscles tensed and fired up.

'Are you ok?'

'I think so..' he said.

'Glenn, are you breaking up with me?'

A cold sweat ran over his face. Suddenly he saw himself. A duplicate version that walked out from his shadow and started climbing the frame. He staggered back and watched in horror. His dreamt images of blood and tears flashed across his face again. It flared over his vision like a warning siren.

Glenn ran forward, trying to stop the second version of himself, but he fell through the frame like a ghost. He watched in horror as the other Glenn continued rising. Each handful of the frame made the bars shudder and groan.

'Get down, get down!' cried Glenn.

'Yes, I am. I'm here to break up with you. I know it won't be easy.' said the other Glenn.

Glenn's heart skipped a beat. What had he just said?

'No, we're not breaking up!' he shouted from below the climbing frame.

Her eyes glimmered with tears and droplets fell down her cheek.

'Gwendolyn, no, we're not breaking up!' he tried again.

It was no use. His mind was screaming the words but the sound was stuck in his throat. His mouth hung ajar.

'How could you do this to me?' she sobbed.

His duplicate was sitting awkwardly next to her, perched on the frame. He thought about screaming how much he loved her.

'It's the right thing to do. I think it's best if we both move on.'

Glenn clenched his fists. Who was saying this? Not him.

The frame gave one last squeal. The old, rusty frame gave way to the weight and collapsed. Both Gwendolyn and Glenn toppled from the height. The blue bars came crashing down. Their screams drowned out by the clattering sound of the bars colliding with each other.

'No, no!' cried Glenn.

Glenn's clone was fortunate. He fell sideways and landed on the grass. Gwendolyn fell straight down the center on the frame, knocked by the ends of each bar as she flew. When she hit the ground, the dismantling bars collapsed onto her and buried her in a zigzag of blue, rusty metal.

'It wasn't your fault,' echoed his father's voice, deep within Glenn's ear.

'She was such a sweet girl,' sobbed Gwendolyn's mother.

Glenn grabbed both his ears and tried to block out the noise. 'Stop, shut up,' he yelled. 'Make it stop. Gwendolyn. Don't leave!'

The crimson sky at her funeral manifested before him. The sight of dead leaves and stark, lifeless trees. Her face appeared whenever he closed his eyes. Her cries ran through his mind.

'I came here to make things right,' he choked. 'To make things right.'

Glenn lowered down to her help remove the bars but his back tightened. He stumbled sideways and fell by the silver slide. When he looked at the surface of the slide, he saw a reflection. An old face. Grey, puffy hair and blotched, wrinkled skin. His face.

'Get away!' cried Glenn. He shielded himself from the face. 'Gwendolyn! Gwendolyn!'

He spun away but the frame had magically returned to normal. Now it was red. The frame was shorter, robust and safer. Newer. Gwendolyn's body had vanished. Where could she be? He staggered forward but he fell again. After several seconds of struggling, a warm hand rested on his back. It was tender and familiar, but he couldn't see who it was with his eyes shut.

'I've found him!' shouted a voice.

Glenn opened his eyes and looked at his own hands. They were old, skeletal hands. He looked up at the woman who'd pressed her hand against his back. She looked like his mother but different.

'Oh, Dad, I was so worried.' She said.

'Dad?' said Glenn to himself.

A younger man came running up across the greenery.

'Dad,' he called out. 'What were you doing here?'

'Gwendolyn..' he muttered.

'Who is Gwendolyn?'

The woman turned to the man and spoke in a quieter voice. A sad expression washed over her face. She avoided Glenn's frantic gaze.

'That was the girl that died when he was in 15. In this park. They were both on a climbing frame and it collapsed.'

Glenn shook his head. Surely not, surely not.

'This is the park..' stammered Glenn.

'That's right,' said his daughter. She gave him a weak smile. 'This was the park you last saw Gwendolyn in.'

Glenn was shaking. His tshirt had been replaced with a crinkled, beige shirt. His skin had aged.

'Have to make things right.. have to make things right..' he said.

She kneeled down and wrapped her arms around him. 'Oh Dad..' she said. 'It was 50 years ago.. Gwendolyn is gone.'

He kept shaking his head. His world had started to disappear around him. And now it was reappearing. Different. His grey, puffy hair. His arched, fragile back. So old. And yet there it still was, the silver slide and the spindly climbing frame. And Gwendolyn. He looked up from his daughter's shoulders and stared hard at the blue frame. If he looked hard enough, he could still see Gwendolyn waiting nervously on the metal. Her eyes gazing calmly into the clouds. Still waiting for him.

'Gwendolyn,' he called out.

She looked over at him, frowned at his frantic crying and then turned away. If he was seeing her, there would be still be a chance. He could try again tomorrow.

'Gwendolyn!' he cried.

His children picked him up on each side and walked him past the frame. It had returned back to the newer, red shape. Gwendolyn was gone. And still he tried, calling out 50 years into the past. Tears falling down his face as if the disaster had happened moments ago; as if those decades were nothing more than seconds in his frightened mind. And so he kept calling out, reliving, hoping and trying. Over and over.

Over and over.

-