I saw a ghost today. I’ve seen them here before. Sometimes they haunt my dreams, but today it was real.
She looked a broken, sad you might say. Like she had seen one too many ghosts herself, such an irony.
The scars on her wrist, told me shed been through hell, most likely more than once. The scars on her back and the scars on her legs told me that most of the scars weren’t her own, rather they were ones others had given her.
But that wasn’t the saddest part, the saddest part were the scars inside her soul, those told me the saddest tales. Ones of an incomprehendable childhood, one where her wings were clipped and her intellect and free will destroyed with rules and commands a century old. The scars told me stories of trust, of laughter, and of faith. All in a world that teased and taunted her with such things but never let her have it. Trust? It had been broken with lies, cheating, and something so dark and buried so deep, no one truly wanted to know what caused them. Laughter? It had been drown out by the thousands of tears cried alone…in vain. And the faith? The faith was the hardest to understand. Faith in the world. Faith in people. Faith in the future. Faith in herself. All lost in a thousand moments of watching people fail her. People disappoint her. People leave her. Until she understood the only one she could count on was herself. I felt my heart buckle.
And just as I was about to look away, not able to contain my emotions from the sight of such a damaged and eerily familiar little ghost, I looked into her eyes, and I saw something I cant explain. It stopped my breathing, and I’m almost sure my already buckled heart skipped a beat or two. Because as I stared into her eyes, despite her broken heart, her broken trust, her broken beliefs, and her broken mind, her eyes told a different story, one that I wanted to hear, a story of a part of her that wasn’t broken…her spirit.