Your Ghost

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
Imagine that we all had a ghost that we could send to comfort someone no matter how far away they are.
Inspired by the haunting song and video 'Your Ghost' by Kristen Hersh and Michael Stipe.

Submitted: May 30, 2016

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Submitted: May 30, 2016

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Your Ghost.

Something wakes me up. I am in a state of discombobulation, neither properly awake or asleep. I have absolutely no idea what has disturbed me.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

The sound of the clock next to my ear does nothing to help my confusion. There is some reason for me to be awake at this hour but what can it be?

I lay there for a while, just listening. I don't hear anything that is unusual. Perhaps I was woken by a nightmare but if so I have absolutely no memory of it. I do not feel panicked or scared.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

My cheeks feel tight, sore: there is a taste of salt from my lips. The pillow where I have just had my head is wet. I have cried myself to sleep yet again. Silently, though, so no one else can hear.

I have a feeling that I am being called. It does not make sense though as I cannot hear anything. I lay there, unmoving, staring at the ceiling. Maybe I'll be able to work out what it is that has disrupted my night.

No sounds. No movement. Just the tick, tick, tick.

I carefully slide out of the side of my bed and pad barefoot towards the window. Very slowly I move back a corner of the curtain, just enough so that I can see out into the garden. It is too late at night, too early in the morning for there to be much light, but the sky is clear and the moon is full. There is nothing so beautiful as a moon glow!

I stand and gaze from the window. I cannot see anything that does not belong out there: I cannot pick up any sudden movements. Everything looks to be in its proper place. Everything looks completely at peace.

But there it is again, that calling. It brings a feeling of being wanted that is hard to resist. There is no threat to it, no menace. If anything, it is a comfort. And comfort is what I need more than anything right now.

I slip quietly from my room and pause silently at the top of the stairs, listening. Everybody else is still asleep. I hear no sounds of anyone stirring. No rustling of sheets, no creaking of springs. No one is going to call out for me while I am gone.

Still barefoot, I tread silently down the stairs. There is almost a feeling of anticipation  building inside of me, but for what I do not know. I have absolutely no idea of what I am heading towards except that it feels soothingly peaceful.

The door glides open silently once I release the bolt that had held it in place. I walk through it, pulling it quietly closed behind me. I had not thought to put on a coat but I am not cold. The temperature doesn't register with me at all. My bare feet walk through the dewy grass, leaving behind flattened footprints that slowly disappear.

I can feel the calling now. It is urging me along, guiding my footsteps. There is a wooden bench near the bottom of our garden and it is towards this that I find myself heading. I can see nothing, but my senses are now alert to every tiny sensation.

There is no fear, no terror, no feeling of tension at all. I feel at ease, relaxed for the first time in years. There is nothing here that means me harm.

I sit on the bench in the moon glow and even though I cannot see you I know that you are right there next to me. I cannot touch you but I feel your arms wrap around me and chase all my troubles away. We may not have ever met but I know that it is you that is here with me now.

We sit there together, not saying a word. We are totally at peace with each other. It is only when the sun starts to rise that you start to pull away, to make a move towards departure.

I don't want you to leave. I almost hate the sun for bringing about another day, with all the stress and the tension I know it will bring. I want this feeling of peace to last.

You sense this though and return once more. This time when you leave I do not panic. I know that you will visit me again.

As the sun climbs higher into the sky I make my way back to the house, back to my bed, and I sleep.

When I wake I still feel at peace, much calmer than usual. I know it was all just a dream, but the marks of my wet footprints on the stairs tell me otherwise. We will meet again, out in the silent night of my garden, and that thought will keep me hanging on.

 


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