The heat from the swollen summer sun beat down against her exposed skin. Her dark hair is littered with lighter streaks, bleached by the intensity of the sun's rays.

She laughs, a deep throaty laugh, throwing her head back, her hair slipping off her shoulders and falling down her back.

The light was hazy and nothing seemed clear, the people around her ill defined, their voices merged into a soft hum, buzzing around her.

Her vision was blurred, unfocused, like her speech was so often slurred after a wine binge.

Only this time she was so far away from that past. She was a world away.

Her heart beat hard and fast and dappled shadows from the trees above danced around her.

She blinked her eyes, until the figures ahead of her came into focus.

Little dark curls, secured with a dusky pink bow, bounced joyously as the little girl pranced playfully in front of her father. A contagious giggle filling the air. Her little legs did their best to outrun him as she larked about, twirling and jumping in a bubble of elation.

Carla smiles as he catches up with the child, crouching down and lifting her up into the air, holding her high above him, his prize trophy, the light of his life.

She squeals loudly, kicking her little legs, scrunching up her nose, her dark lashes framing her green eyes, eyes she'd inherited from her mother.

Carla smiles softly at the vision before her, the smile on his face, broad and full of a happiness he'd dreamed of. Gazing at his daughter, looking at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, to them.

He kneels to put her down, shaking his head with amusement as she runs away from him, ever the cheeky one, towards the swings.

'Daddy, come' she calls, skipping with glee as she races towards the playground.

She reaches the swings before either of them, Carla walking leisurely, far behind, observing their play, their bond evident.

The child climbs onto the free swing, laughing, never stopping. And Carla doesn't see who reaches the swings first, who pushes her first.

She's laughing and swinging through the air yelling 'daddy'.

But then she's crying, screaming, and she's hurtling through the air, limbs flailing in every direction. The metal chains that she was gripping onto only moments ago now bare, no tiny fingers curled round their links.

It's all too fast.

Carla's running, her bag falls to the floor, and her heart, the heart that has been beating outside of her own body for the past 4 years is gone.

She's gone. It's all gone.