You remember them. Those places you played in when you were a kid, where you weren’t supposed to be. Walking through half fallen down buildings with kids cooler than you, until there was a sudden noise and you weren’t the only one running. The stories about things seen, the ghostly voice you swear hissed at you to go away! And the adults who shouted at you to clear off. I’ll never forget the old guy who made me cry when he caught me running in his factory grounds, though he’s probably long dead now.

You never forget playing there.

Damian