Whispers of the Past

It started when I was little. Just little whispers here and there. Each of them begging for me to listen to them. To hear what they have to say.

So, I listened. Sometimes they would appear. Most of the time, they'll just whisper. Just hover behind my ear and tell me their story.

As I got older, I had more of a reason to worry. Occasionally, I would be walking down the street and suddenly the buildings in front of me would start to waver. It looked like a heat wave was coming up from the ground, causing whatever was in front of me to, well, wave.

A few minutes later a ghost would appear. They always looked sad. Their faces were tortured and set in terrified expressions. They were almost never happy.

Whenever the ghosts appeared, I ran into the bathroom and waited for the ghost to reapper. They would hover in front of me, coming in and out of sight. Eventually, they would whisper their story to me.

And I would listen.