To My Ghost; Viva La Vida

Raphael del Rosario

The first day I saw the ghost in the forest was the week my sister passed. As nice as the day was, it wasn’t really fitting for the occasion. A sunny and crystal April day, gentle starlings sang their songs throughout the newly budding trees as nature attempted to cheer me up. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working. After I received the news, I crumbled in despair. She was my closest friend, the way most siblings could never dream of. We would always chat together as well, from meaningless banter to heartfelt exposure of our inner selves.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” She’d ask, genuine care and concern in her eyes as she saw me moping on our small faux leather couch.

“Nothing,” I mumbled. “Just a bad day at work.”

“C’mon, you can tell me.”

“Seriously, it’s ok.” I shot back. She gave me that look again. Her classic side eye dug into my brain. This could continue back and forth until I broke down to explain. I always lost that battle. We nearly never fought, and when it happened on rare occasions we always knew what to say to forgive each other. What was I supposed to do without her?

After a few drudgingly long days, the stinging, unbearable pain had reduced to a heartfelt throb. I decided to go outside to collect my thoughts, which felt unbelievably scrambled.

The forest extended far past our small, suburban backyard, and you wouldn’t expect much of it. It wasn’t anything exciting; a few scattered oak trees peppered the area, and the rocky ground was covered mostly in small, shriveled weeds rather than grass. However, it was calming, and it made me feel at peace. I always went back with my sister and some friends when I was younger to play hide and seek. Our high-pitched giggles would echo against the sturdy walls of the forest, as we excitedly waited to be the one to win.

I awoke from the nostalgic trance and gently sat down against a towering oak. I melted into the forest, feeling the quiet spring breeze and inhaling the deep scent of the forest. This felt like home. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

My eyes fluttered open to look around my surroundings. What was that? How long was I here? Maybe a raccoon? Or a squirrel? I quickly got up to examine my desolate surroundings. It was over there; a flutter of white, far in the distance, and deeper into the forest. No, wait, it was a person. I squinted to see a figure, covered in a white sheet with two small eye holes cut out. It was the kind of costume you might see from a cliche 80’s Halloween movie, but as it stared at me with the surrounding trees, I felt chilly, as you’d feel as if ice cubes slowly dripped down your spine.

Despite this, I felt something strange. I felt connected to the ghost costume. I had to go to it. It was a magnetic connection be- tween me and that cheap white sheet, and it was powerful. I slowly crept in that direction, carefully calculating my every step. As soon as the ghost saw this, however, it turned and strode away. The movements had such deftness embedded in them, that it appeared like the specter was real. Almost like it wasn’t just a ridiculous costume. What an absurd thought, I silently muttered to myself.

Nevertheless, I continued on, my pace gradually increasing into a run. My heart pounded. My feet relentlessly trampled into the dead leaves scattered through the ground.