The Creek was once a marvelous place. With imagination and mystery. It was twenty acres of woods with a seven to ten foot deep river and a twenty foot drop towards the river.

Friendships were contested and others were lost through blood, swear, ignorance, and tears. The Creek was a place of my childhood, a place where things of happiness and sadness, memories and betrayals all came together. Were we spilled blood and created tribes, weapons, forts, prisons, and anything else that the Creek was able to provide for us.

Savages we once became because of the brilliance of this wilderness. I lost a few friends there, but forged many a more there as well. The Creek was our sacred place, a place where we were kings, and a place that well to nothing upon one friends leaving, and said friend was the thing that held the main three together, so when they left, the others drifted apart, only to come once again together when said friend returns to his kingdom of paradise, but that happens rarely........