A/N: Hello and welcome to Ghosts! This story is basically just angst, told from the point of view of Cherry, one of Frank's daughters. Enjoy!
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Do you believe in ghosts?
I do. I have ever since I was little, because I have one of my own.
A ghost, I mean. I remember asking him once, what he was.
I'd been in the backyard by myself, swinging on the swings. I was five or six years old at the time. My twin sister Lily was in the house with our mom and dad, but I was outside. The sky was cloudy and gray, the way I like it.
My ghost was sitting on the swing next to mine. He wasn't swinging, just sitting.
I pumped my legs to swing myself higher. "Will you push me?"
He shook his head. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"It's not possible." He reached out his arm, and it passed right through the chains holding my swing.
"How are you sitting on the swing, then?"
He shrugged. My ghost has black hair, sort of short, and hazel eyes. He wears a black jacket, skinny black pants, and black boots. He looks delicate, slightly faded, as if a strong gust of wind could blow him away. He smells like cigarette smoke, though I've never seen him actually smoking.
"Are you a ghost?" I asked, stopping my swing.
I'd been seeing him for as long as I could remember. He says he was there when I was born, but I don't remember that. He looks after me and my sister Lily.
He said he'd tried to talk to Lily many times, but she can't hear him like I can. I told her about him, once, but she thought I was playing a joke on her, so I didn't mention him again.
My ghost and I have talked sine I actually could talk. He keeps me company, gives me advice, and tries to protect me.
My ghost smiled. "Yes, I guess I am."
"You're my ghost?"
He lightly kicked at a rock by his feet, but his foot just passed through it. "I am."
"That's what I'll call you then. My ghost."
He smiled again, showing his teeth. "I like that."
