The children sang a mantra of nursery rhymes as they danced around in the abandoned garden. A forest of weeds and vines. The air was warm yet humid, light winds passed through occasionally, spreading the scent of wild flowers and the voices of the children. 

The vines covered every inch of the garden. Like a snake, it seemingly slithered, creating a beautiful blanket of yellow and green. A tree stood in the centre, tall enough to support the entire sky, yet was black as coal. The leaves were nowhere in sight. 

However, none of this fazed the children. The dancing and singing never ended, even after midnight. Even when the next day arrived. The dancing and singing continued even during the rain. They continued to dance. 

Eight days after the singing began, something peculiar happened. A child, roughly the age of seven, wearing casual clothes reminiscent of a sailor uniform, collapsed. His face sunken from hunger, and his eyes were diluted from the thirst and heat. 

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Then, one after another, the children began collapsing. Their chests had completely deflated, until the rib cage was clear as day. The singing became weaker, and the dancing was slower. 

This did not stop the rest of the children, however, as the remaining few continued their ritual. They danced and sang with broken bodies and cracked throats. The children were not tired. The singing continued. 

Eventually, only one was left singing and dancing. A boy wearing a black t-shirt. He wasn’t much better than the rest, but he continued singing and dancing. 

He continued the mantra for days, weeks even. It was clear that he was exhausted. The boy continued, however. 

On day twenty-seven, the boy collapsed. His arms were thin as sticks, his stomach almost collapsed, and his face more shrunken than anyone before him. The boy looked no different to a skeleton. 

No children sang or danced in the abandoned garden. A forest of weeds and vines. The air was warm and humid, light winds passed through occasionally, spreading the scent of decaying bodies.