It was real. It was Hassan who was standing there, staring into emptiness as if he had lost his way. It felt like he was waiting for someone, and for some strange reason, she assumed that he was waiting for her. The cold weather wrapped her when she stepped outside her house. She was in the middle of the night, going to see
someone who was already dead. It couldn’t get any worse. As Kamala
approached him, he turned around and looked at her. He was not how
she pictured a ghost should be. His feet were touching the ground, his
fingernails looked the same, and most importantly, he wasn’t the least
bit scary.
Kamala could sense that he was as surprised to see her as she was to
see him. Both of them had the same bewildered look on their faces.
“How is that you can see me?” he asked.
She didn’t know, how could she, all she knew was this not something
that she was imagining. Back when she was still a kid they used to play
in the ground near an old abandoned house. She used to come up with
bizarre stories about that place. It had all kinds of ghosts and demons
that she could imagine which would lead to both of them being scared.
It got to a point where they were afraid of going anywhere near that
house, even the playground seemed horrifying. But that was back when
she still believed in stories, when her imagination was not a slave of
reality. This was why when she saw Hassan standing alone, she was
sure that she had seen him cause she no longer made-up things in her
mind.
