There is no warning rattle at the door. There is no howling of the wind. There are no white sheets when they come. Ghosts. They just appear. Some take the form they had before they died, some alter it but it’s easier for them to take over animals, especially small ones, especially birds. Small birds. People don’t notice them, I think I’m the only one to see dead people. Of course at first I didn’t know, it was mainly kind people, worried about me but then I met a guy who hated to lie. So he told me the truth. And he told me how he died. Dead people are usually harmless but when they are angry they can appear near your bed and kill you. Of course that’s very hard for them to do.
My best friend is dead, I’m pretty sure she’s the first dead person I’ve known though I can’t be sure. She’s often near me and we talk a lot. At night she always makes sure someone’s beside me if she can’t be there. If she weren’t dead I would have married her later. She knows everything. She’s the only girl worth existing and sometimes I wonder why she sticks around a “little boy” like me. Of course I’m a big boy now but people often get it wrong.
People, living people I mean, say I’m weird. They think I talk to myself. They’re weird, why can’t they see ghosts? I don’t like boys my age. I don’t like girls. I don’t like grown-ups, I don’t like babies, I don’t like puzzles, books are boring, drawing is too long and I don’t like games that involve other people. I like talking to dead people. They know things. They tell me stories about everything. I want to be a pirate when I grow up. They tell me pirate stories and all sorts of other ones too. When I grow up, I want to be a dead pirate and my best friend can be my parrot.
…I may have gotten a little carried away with this one…