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Inktober 2018: Day 03 – Roasted

Roast Ghost

No one believed her when she said that she had a ghost for a friend. But she was adamant that he existed. After all, he was right next to her, telling her that it was a waste of time trying to convince them otherwise. Sure, she couldn’t see him, but she heard him loud and clear. Naturally, as she grew older, people began to distance themselves from her, convinced that she was crazy and delusional. Her parents had even sought professional help for her. But no matter what everyone around her said or did, she refused to believe that he was just a figment of her imagination. Eventually, she learned that it was best to just not to say anything at all.

Once a year on Halloween, as a special treat, he allowed her to “dress him up” so that she wouldn’t feel so lonely. She’d loan him a bedsheet to wear and people would just assume he was dressed as a ghost. It also put her parents at ease to know that she wasn’t trick-or-treating alone. But instead of going to collect candy, they would go to their secret spot within the woods to roast marshmallows. She’d be reminded again that he truly was real. Sometimes she wished that he could be visible everyday and that people would finally believe her. But he reminded her that it was for the best that only she knew of his existence.

“Thanks for doing this, even though you can’t actually eat the marshmallows.” She smiled sheepishly. He replied that it was his pleasure. After all, he would be lonely as well if she wasn’t there. They continued to roast their marshmallows in an amiable silence, listening to the fire crackle. A gentle breeze blew through the trees and the flames whooshed along with the flow. A sudden yelp had her turning her eyes away from her marshmallows and up towards him to see that the sheet had caught on fire when the breeze blew the flames his way.

“I’m on fire!” He shouted, but instead of panicking and being concerned, she just watched him mirthfully.

“It’s not like you’re actually going to get hurt.” She said.

“Still!” He retorted, earning a giggle in response.

“Alright, alright. Next year, I’ll make sure to get you a wool blanket instead.”

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