The Ghost

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a monologue about a person becoming something else. The Ghost.

Submitted: March 15, 2016

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Submitted: March 15, 2016

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THE GHOST

 

If he were dead, I would possibly not be able to write this documentation of a lost soul.  To say lost may be misconstrued.  If something is left between good and evil, or life and death, or on a road to somewhere, even.  Is that lost?  I cannot say, but that is kind of where He is or was or where or when.  Anyway, this is his story, or is he It?  I am no expert. I can only tell you what I know.  Someone has to tell you the awe and mystery of ‘The Ghost.’

 

Monday

 

I have moved into this house alone.  To take it easy.  After a nightmare holiday in evacuee torn Turkey.  The Ghost, seemed to have followed me from there.  Laughing all the way, after I saw gaunt looking humans.  This may have been the seed, that grew and lead him to haunt me.

I can see a shadow standing behind me.  Even though it is not there.

 

 

 

Tuesday

 

Do not feel bad for me.  I do not seek pity.  The trouble is, I do not think I have a soul now.  I feel that he has it.  Him on the other side of the mirror.  Wind blows from nowhere on the back of my neck.  I think it is him.  The power of the Ghost.

 

Wednesday

 

I paid some bills today.  Avoided a friend, as I did some window shopping.  I was sure I saw a figure behind me.  When I turned, no one was there.  Only time can say what I saw.  The Ghost of my soul is as lost as I am.  I pray to escape his existance.

 

Friday

 

It has been a day since I felt his presence.  I am sure he is still there.  I stared into the bathroom mirror.  Fascinated and bemused, when the light went out.  Something dark grabbed and pulled me, toward the mirror.  Soon, I fear it will be me that is the Ghost.

 

Saturday

 

I have made it through, Friday the 13th .  As the world crashes around me.  I sit and wonder.  If I exist anymore.  I cannot think straight.  I could do something, but I will not.  I am invisible to this world.  I am the Ghost.

 

Sunday

 

Life seems good now.  The cold is coming, though.  I must be strong.  That other guy has gone.  That secret identity.  Like the end of a day or life.  I know now for sure.  I am the Ghost.

 

Goodbye all.  From the Ghost.

Ha ha ha

 


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