Sara had two brown, curly pigtails tied up in red ribbons. Her green eyes sparkled as she raced to her mansion, hidden by the bushes. Her yellow shirt and jean overalls were covered with dirt and grass stains. The only sounds were the sticks cracking under her feet and her victorious hoorah as she caught sight of her destination. She reached a great oak tree and punched in a pass code. The trunk of the old tree slid open and she darted up the spiral stairs inside. Sara had everything she needed: a walkie talkie, a fridge full of food and a bed with soft, warm covers. Next to the bed, Sara made a high-tech security system all by herself. She was proud of the manor. Sara looked out her window; it was getting dark. She scanned the woods surrounding her home making sure no one was watching her. She gave out another high pitched laugh, reset her security system and sprinted back out of her mansion, heading to her other home, where dinner was waiting.

Sara would play in her mansion in those woods every summer. For years, she would play in those woods; but one summer, Sara didn’t come. The woods seemed to lose their liveliness that year. Everything was still, no birds sang, no flowers bloomed. It was as if the entire woods were waiting, hoping against hope to hear Sara’s playful scream. People wondered what was the cause of the newfound silence, but no one cared enough to find out. Eventually, the woods grew again and the birds and foxes came out of hiding, but Sara’s pavilion stayed. The house grew old and weather worn, but it stayed, not a crack on it.

The truth was, Sara had forgotten about her old playhouse. She grew up and her family moved to a different house. Later, she forgot about that house too. A new family moved in, remodeling the house to their liking. It was a small family, only three people. There was a mother, a father and a girl, about the age of 13 named Jessica. Two weeks after Jessica’s family moved in, she wanted to explore. She loved exploring and finding treasures. Although she was too old to play detective, she felt that the old estate held a few secrets, and she was going to figure them out.
Jessica has straight, long, dark brown hair. Her eyes were a brilliant brown that seemed to glow in the low light of the woods. She wore a pink sweatshirt and jeans with her favorite clogs. Her bangs hung low over her left eye. Her hands in her sweatshirt pocket, Jessica walked through the woods. She wandered for quite some time before noticing something that didn’t fit with the tree trunks and vines. She hadn’t realized what it was until she came closer – a treehouse. Old and warped, but she could tell someone had played in it before. There was a spiral wooden staircase jutting out from a great oak tree. Jessica stepped on the first one, testing it with her weight. After she figured it was fairly safe, she began her flight up the stairs, each step creaking under her weight. Once she had reached the top, she stared about, amazed. Although aged, the treehouse was the finest Jessica had seen. She wandered around the square area. In one corner was a box. As Jessica peered in, she noticed it was full of toy spoons, play food and plastic cups. As she was scrambling through the dusty box, she found a single walkie talkie. Putting everything back, Jessica stood up. In another corner, was a pile of rags. Above the heap of old towels and blankets was what looked like a Sharpie-drawn computer, all crooked and faded. It had an extra-large keyboard; above that was a drawing of what Jessica thought was a screen with shaky, horizontal lines acting as words. In the bottom of her stomach, Jessica felt a little tug. She didn’t fully understand the sensation, but she knew one thing; Jessica wished with all her heart that she could remember, like Sara once had, how to imagine.