The ghosts never speak. They just walk and moan.
I see them in the background, walking around in circles, going nowhere on invisible treadmills.
I point them out to my mom, but she never sees them. She looks at me funny and takes me to a doctor.
The doctor asks about the ghosts. I don't tell the doctor anything. I don't like her. She smells like mouthwash.
The ghosts walk behind the doctor. Their eyeballs drip like melted crayons, oozing green and red.
I smell the ghosts. They smell like Nanna's closet.
I told my mom about the ghosts at the doctor's office. She asked if I told the doctor about them. I lie and tell her that I did.
I like to lie. I don't know why, but I just do. I can make the world what I want it to be. I can use my imagination.
I can change the world and make it how I want it.
I need to change it soon.
There are too many ghosts. And none of them seem happy. They make me sad.
The ghosts have been around a while, maybe forever. They wear clothes from other times.
One day the doctor will be a ghost. My mom will be a ghost. I'll be a ghost, too.
I hope I'll be a happy ghost.
I hope I get to be a ghost. At least I'd still be around after I die, unlike Nanna.
I hope the ghosts are real, unlike the aliens. Those were just a lie.
Now I see fairies in the clouds. I know that if you eat their food you will turn into a fairy person, too, and be with them, become one of them.
They're much happier than ghosts, and they've been around a long time.
The fairies be around a long time. Maybe I'll be around a long time.