Ghosts do exist.
- The first time she was haunted by one was when she fell in love. When he kissed her for the first time, her hands found his hair, but her thoughts could not find a reason to believe that he would stay. She opened her eyes mid-way, and looked at him and all she saw was her fear. She felt sweat on her forehead, as she pulled away. Her eyes darted here and there as she saw flashes of the last time someone had promised to stay and hadn’t. The ghost of empty promises and broken hearts left her tongue dry. He did not seem bothered at all.
- He believed in ghosts because they just wouldn’t let him be. Every time he decided to move on, and build himself a life he wanted, the ghost of the expectations of his parents tied his hand behind him, and slowly choked his will to believe. His wrist had scars of him trying to untie himself, but they were mere reminders of his shattered hopes and dreams.
- She just could not forget what he had done to her. Every time she went on a new date, tried to move on, he popped up in her thoughts. She loved him. She still did. How can she move on knowing that he was what she wanted. She wanted expensive champagne, and cheap nail polish and warm blankets with him by her side. The ghost of her past haunted her on every new date, and she just could not let it go.
- He did not want to hurt someone. He feared power and authority for the sole purpose of staying unable to inflict pain. He did not trust himself enough to believe that if given the chance, he wouldn’t choose himself over others. He knew that choosing oneself is how you progress, but not at the cost of someone he loved? The ghost of his darkness made him fear himself.
- She had lost her friend. Every time she sat on her terrace and gazed at the city that was unaware of her loss, she saw shadows of her friend sitting beside her, a cigarette embraced in her fingers, a carefree smile reaching her eyes. One that is lost can never really be lost again. And so she held onto the ghost of her friend, a shimmering and fading image that made her believe that maybe it would all be okay.
- There was no way out of this. He sat in the corner of his room, tears running down his red cheeks. Everything seemed to collapse on him, and he just could not pick himself up again. He wanted to believe, he tried to, but there was nothing to believe in. No hope bloomed in the garden inside his chest. The ghost of hopelessness held a knife to his wrist, and as the blood trickled down, he felt free.
We are all haunted in some way or another. We just have to hold on and believe in ourselves. Ghosts do exist, but just in our heads.
Hope.
“I hope to arrive at my death, late, in love, and a little drunk.” – Atticus
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