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Jenson breathed in, filling his lungs with the aches and joys of childhood. Home. He thought, elated. The lane was littered with beautiful autumn leaves, framing a mosaic of years long passed. It was the same. He was so happy that it remained largely unchanged. He hadn't been back home in twenty years, for the life of him, he couldn't remember why.

He slowly walked down the lane, soaking it all in. Why haven't I come back sooner? He pondered as he spotted the tree him and Sarah nearly knocked over, playing hide and seek - it still had the vague x mark where he nearly split his skull. There has to be a reason...I'm sure of it.

He had the same unnerving feeling on the plane ride over. There was something. But it happened so long ago that he couldn't remember. It was like an itch that over the years dulled, now Jenson was back to observe the spot where it dwelled. Who cares, He didn't, evident by the fact he was now here.

He left his family at home, wife, two kids. He was a dentist back in Sacramento, able to provide for everyone's needs. He figured it was time for a little self-indulgence. Thus, ignoring his itch, he decided to come back home.

Wow. That's the Den? No way... The Den was an abandoned house they used as their 'secret base'. In their later years, they would use it as a party house. Now, it was gone. Replaced by a mansion that was completely out of place with the rest of the lane. It's been twenty years, can't expect everything to stay the same.

His feet brushed the leaves and a sudden sting of nostalgia choked him with fondness. He stopped, lip wobbling, as the memories came flooding back. He let them envelop him, cradle him, he was theirs as they were his. And for that wonderful moment, Jenson was Timmy again. His knee was scraped and his pride was nonexistent. When he came to, he found he had plastered a stupid grin on his face. He let it linger.

A couple steps down was Mr. Gentry's home. The old retired factory worker that would slice open their soccer ball when they entered his garden - but hive the most candy on Halloween. He was a grouch and he was a sage. Most importantly, he was loved.

Jenson kept moving down the lane, memories flooding him from all sides. To the right was Annie's house, his first crush. Next to her a small field, then -

"What's this fool grinning at?"

Jenson saw them then. Two... ruffians was the best word he could find for them. They stood by a small wired fence at the end of the lane. Their appearance caused Jenson's itch to return.

He remembered.

"Oh. Mr. Doctor. You look like you've made a wrong turn somewhere." One of them brandished a pocket knife like it was a dagger.

"A-actually, I lived here once. I haven't been back in so -"

"A-a-a-a-a-." A third said from inside the fence. "Well since you haven't been back in a long time let's explain some things." He pointed to the three of them. "This here is our street. You get that? We're the judge, jury and..." He hopped over the fence. "Executioner."

"I-I see. Well, I'll be on my way then." Jenson turned. Looking back on it now, he knew that was the worst possible thing he could've done.

A slash of pain in his back, the pocket knife cutting a hole in his shirt. He was on the ground then, the crunchy autumn leaves tickling his nose as they kept kicking him and kicking him. They spouted nonsense, took his wallet, bashed his face in. Jenson was too focused on that cursed itch.

His buddy Kyle, was the first to leave. His parents got a job in Los Angeles, some marketing agency, so they moved. Kyle's house remained unoccupied for the longest time. Until a certain unsavory group decided to buy it. It was at the end of the lane's lifespan as Jenson knew it, so all he remembered was a vague mild annoyance.

Jenson got on the first flight back to Sacramento. His childhood now firmly in his past.

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