It was late on a Saturday night that had not been anything hectic. I looked at the right side of the bed, thinking about how many times I did this same movement in the hope that everything was part of a dream from which I had just woken up. Unfortunately, it was not a dream; the bed was as empty as the house and the room next door, but the crying that came from there didn't bother me anymore.
This particular night was cold, for a month in November mainly, so I got up and decided to replenish the beds with covers and try to sleep during the three hours of darkness that I still had. A few minutes later the crying subsided and I could realize that the noise of the wind was stronger, which could indicate a storm in a few hours and which meant that it would be a long and tiring day making me want to end it even before to start. The clock woke at six o'clock and even with the physical and mental wear and tear I got up and changed the clothes to the ones I normally wear at work. Before starting morning activities, I went to visit my parents, who were always fine, their neighbors who made a little noise at night, but nothing they couldn't handle. Not far from there, Janine, an old friend, was agitated and kept saying that whatever "was coming", which I soon deduced to be the storm I predicted earlier this morning, which made sense considering that she was always afraid of storms and what they brought. I told her to calm down and look for me if she needed anything and almost instantly she seemed calmer. Distracting myself with the long ride I had to do, I only noticed the heavy raindrops when they were already wetting my coat, which almost instinctively made me run and hide under the roof of the old chapel that it was not far from my final destination. The golden adornments still had a certain sheen that were certainly exuberant a few years ago but that were now dull and peeling due to the passage of time and constant climate change. When the rain blew, I ran to the warehouse with my head down, taking care where I stepped, but when I looked ahead again there she was, in her beautiful little blue dress, her brown hair tied in two braids left her angelic face visible to anyone who watched her , but not for me. For some reason, I couldn't see her face anymore, although I believed she would still have a little bit of me in her and the sweetest smile in the world; apparently the reason for today was the rain that blurred my vision but still let me see her shape, in an almost cruel way. She waved at me cheerfully, as she always did when I saw her and I could feel it, even through the distance between us and the slightly heavier serene now, the warmth of her smile, which made me smile back, so there were also the distorted shapes approaching and with a weight on my heart and my legs freezed I didn't move; It wouldn't do any good, I had already failed to protect her and was beginning to believe that it was my destiny to experience this scene continuously. So as soon as it appeared the shapes took it and took a piece of my soul too. Today, however, I saw other movements close by, which could not be considered an isolated event. As fast as I could I changed direction and ran home. My hand instinctively went to the pendant that was swinging against my body, which gave me strength to reach my destination, only to realize that as always it was also empty. Gasping for the run, I opened the pendant I was still holding and could see Alice's beautiful face; her face was young, too young, which again helped me to imagine what she would be like if I could have seen her. Does she blame me? Am I to blame? "Of course you are at fault," I murmured to myself. What would be the reason for her crying every night if you were not to blame? Gaining courage, I opened the house door still with a certain fear of what I would see,and walked some steps, however, removing the soaked soil, everything was in the most perfect order. The chapel was in its small stature, casting a shadow on the now muddy ground, the tombstones almost all kept up to date, which I can attribute to days without surprises when i could really work. Janine was still nervous near her grave, which made me shiver. Not believing that I would have a productive day after the rain, I catch some things and come back to the house, which was not far from my parents' grave.
Janine stopped me halfway. "She spoke to me," she said without looking me in the eye. "Alice said you are not to blame ... and that she loves you."
When the night came and the crying started, this time it was calm almost happy. I gathered my strength and headed for Alice's room. Her lilac cradle contrasting with the whitish walls of the room was quiet, but when I approached I could see that she was there. Her clothes were the same as the last night I saw her, when she was still a baby. With eyes full of tears, I moved closer still, extending the hand she soon grabbed with her little strength. When the tear flowed, I saw her smile and comfort me. Seven years later there was my baby, "still a baby" I said to myself and from that moment on I knew that I would be able to see her face when she appeared again. Now I would no longer be alone at home at night and she would be my new companion during the day and, although I continue to be physically alone, the family would be together every morning and I would be with her and, as strange as ghosts may seem, I got used to mine.
