Have you ever caught yourself going to the next room looking for something, and the second you walk into it, you forget what is it that you wanted to find? That happens to me all the time. But last night...well, I realized something. As I always do.
I got up from the bed searching for something..."Damn it! What was it? Never mind, I'm going back to bed". And so three times. I was stupidly going back and forth in the dark, when I remembered those stories that me and my friends were telling when we were bored. Those stories about ghosts. "Whatever you do", my friend said, "never, ever, go back and forth in the middle of the night". "Oh that's crap!", I said then, and I'm saying it again.
Because the truth is, I'm not afraid of ghosts. I am one. I'm the ghost of the person I used to be. I look back to that careless 8th grade girl and I think, why can't I be like her? I once was. Why can't I be again?
I know she's still there. Somewhere inside. Very deep inside. She's just... waiting to break free. Waiting for that perfect moment. And she will. I know she will. I promise.
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