Ghost

He's back. He used to only come when a sad song would play, or when I'd have a bad day. Now, he comes everyday. He comes when I'm taking a test, or playing on the computer, or getting ready for bed. When I'm just ready to pull the covers over my head and disappear into Dreamland, he comes. Whispering his last words to me, over and over. Asking me, begging me, to join him. Pleading for me to pick up that cursed razor, slit my wrists, and join them in the land of the dead. For God's sake, leave me ALONE! I had given up the act of inflicting pain on myself. And yet, as my eyes flutter shut, his presence rouses me from my slumber, poking me as if to say, "Will you not join me, love?" How I wish my TRUE love, and my BEST friend, were here, to chase away these nightmares, and fight away this ghost. It is for my TRUE love, and my BEST friend, that I laid down the razor and took up the pen, for them that I gave up my life to hope. And I believe that it is for my TRUE love that this ghost returns. Somehow, this shimmering existence beside my bed is waiting. Waiting for my TRUE love to show his face. Waiting for my TRUE love to show his face. Waiting to defend the girl he loves from the man she loves. And though she may wait for her TRUE love for her whole life, the ghost waits for her for eternity. He waits for me...for eternity.