Do you believe in ghosts?
I hope you do since I'm one of them.
No, I am not scary, but I'm lonely. I just want to see my family again. Maybe then I would move on to the other side.
I was eighteen when I died. Just driving back from the mall, with my niece's gift in the backseat. I was uncontrollably smiling since it was Esmeralda's 7th birthday. Oh that kid is the light to my darkness.
I was super excited! I can't wait to show her her gift. But then I spotted a sixteen-wheeler truck moving over the speed limit. I tried dodging it, hoping that I might face a minor accident. But I was too late. The car and the truck collided. That's all that I can remember.
I remembered my soul leaving my body behind. My body was soaked in blood, Crushed against the truck. I cried so hard. Not because I died, but because I wasn't able to see my niece celebrate her birthday alive.
I saw my sister with bloodshot eyes crying her heart out. After a call from the police department about the incident. Her husband Marco comforting her, while carrying a curious Esmeralda.
I couldn't do anything about it. And that's what hurt the most.
After a day later all of my relatives found out. My mother almost had a heart attack from crying. My father tried to be strong for the whole family, but he could only do so much , his eyes glossy, with tears streaming down his cheeks.
It hurt seeing my body, myself lying down a coffin. My face pale and lifeless, my eyes that wouldn't open anymore.
After a week they held my funeral.People gave their speeches about their experiences with me. All were positive and heart-warming. But it hurt hearing those words. It hurt because most of them never say that to me when I was alive.
That was a few years ago.
But I still can't get over the feeling.
