I’ve brought myself back to where it happened, so I can relive the events that occurred five years ago, I shall try and recall them as accurately as possible. I can feel the same summer breeze on my face; the shade from the tree hides me from the near blinding sunlight. I sit down on the ground and lean myself against the tree on my left, the marks are still there; the tree has seemingly exaggerated them. I run my fingers over the marks, as I do; an all too familiar chill strokes my spine, making me shudder. The floor is brisk with brown, dead leaves from the autumn just passed. I pull out a box of cigarettes from my…