The closer I came to the exit, the more crammed I felt inside the tunnel. I was afraid. Afraid I could not get out. It was one of my fears, being stuck. So I rushed my way out, bumping into the constricting walls. But as I began to let out a sigh of relief, standing outside the jungle gym, I froze and held my breath. My heart pounded hard a fast. I almost regretted leaving the brightness of the tunnel, where the memories of my childhood remained. The wind blew the leaves off the ground and the empty swing back and forth. The brightly colored plastic shovel and bucket were left unplayed with in the sand box. The image I saw was all that remained from my childhood. I could never go back though I so badly wanted to crawl back in the tunnels. I was frozen. I could not breathe. The cold air stung me, cutting into my lungs, whenever I could sneak a breath. I looked around, my eyes scanning the park frantically. There was no one there.