Part Twenty-One: Understanding

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I take a deep breath.

"I'm not angry if that's what you're asking. If you didn't pick that name intentionally then I can't really be mad, can I?"

Ghost just listens.

"I don't know...it was just hard to hear that's all. So when I use the word upset I mean it was upsetting to hear it, it was triggering, not that I'm mad at you or anyone in specific." I take a deep breath.

"Why does it upset you?" He asks me, curiosity evident in his eyes.

"Hearing her name usually puts bad images in my mind. Like images of that night that I found her dead. The blood. Her lifeless body. The smell."

Ghost scoots closer to me on the bed.

"I just don't like thinking about that. I, um. I-" I pause for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts. "I'm trying to think of the right way to say this...I've lost a lot of people, have a lot of grief, and I love those people equally as much but it feels like I've sorta gotten over it. Of course, I get sad sometimes when I think about my dad or my absent mom but it doesn't eat me up inside anymore. But it's different with my sister. Maybe it's because we were really close. I mean she was my best friend, we did everything together, told each other everything. She was my favorite person."

I feel a lump in my throat and my face feels warm.

Dammit.

Don't cry.

"But it's confusing because as much as I feel sadness and loss when I think about my sister, I also feel a frightening amount of anger," I confess. It's something I've never admitted out loud to myself.

I look down at my feet in shame.

"What about it makes you angry?" He asks me plainly. No judgment.

I take a deep breath in and slowly blow out.

Do. Not. Cry.

"That she left me. It feels like she took the easy way out. Don't get me wrong, I get why she did it. I understand why she killed herself. I mean, come on, her dad died, her mom neglected her, her stepfather abused her...it's just that she left me all alone," I admit.

They're the words I've been wanting to speak for so long but never had the courage to, or anyone to speak them to.

I feel tears starting to well in my eyes.

No, please stop. Don't cry.

"You too," Ghost says quietly, nearly a whisper.

"What?"

Ghost sighs and looks me right in my eyes, but the coldness is gone, all I see is empathy and warmth.

"Your father died too. Your mother neglected you too. You're stepfather...he abused you too, yet here you are because you're strong." He gently places his hand on my thigh.

Ghost has no idea how much I needed to hear those words. I had no idea how much I needed to hear those words.

"You have every right to feel angry," he reassures me.

I can't hold it back anymore and I start to feel tears dripping down my cheeks.

Ghost just looks at me with compassion in his eyes.

I've never seen this side of him before.

"I can understand how you feel. When my brother became an addict I was concerned for him, but I was angry. It also felt like he was taking the easy way out; avoidance by using substances and making it everyone else's issue. It was selfish." The iciness in his voice doesn't hide the grief in his eyes.

Selfish.

That's a good word to describe what my sister did.

I had no idea Ghost's brother was an addict. Again, Soap told me Ghost wasn't close with his family but I didn't know why.

"I'm sorry," I say with empathy. I know what it's like to love an addict.

My mother seemed to love nothing more than her high.

"Not your fault." He rejects me.

"No, I'm sorry...I know I haven't been the easiest to work with, and I give you a lot of shit sometimes, I've been emotional and reactive and I'm sorry," I say earnestly.

"Not your fault." His rejection now seems oddly reassuring.

Huh.

"What do you mean?"

"You are the way you are for the same reason I am the way I am. I understand, so don't be sorry," he tells me.

I'm in awe of this person.

I didn't know Ghost could be...sensitive.

"I'll be better."

He just looks at me.

"My goal is to be better, do better," I say with the utmost dedication.

I can tell by his eyes that he's smiling behind his mask.

"Good." He nods in approval.

Ghost and I stare into each other's eyes for a little while. We're not saying anything but it feels like we're connecting.

I've never felt this before.

Ghost starts leaning into me, lifting his mask a little bit.

Is he going to kiss me?

My heart is pounding. I hope he can't hear it.

Just as Ghost is about to kiss me there's a knock on the door.

Dammit.

Not again...

A Ghost Encounter: My Time with Simon "Ghost" RileyWhere stories live. Discover now