His Ghost

I am his ghost. I don't know him. I mean, I didn't know him when I was, well, alive. I've been with him since I died twelve years ago. I thought I would be in heaven or hell. I never imagined that after seeing Death, I would be stuck with an eight year old. Twelve years later, here I am. Still with him. I've seen everything. I've seen his heartbreaks, his tears, his smiles. I know everything about him. I know who he likes and who he dislikes. I know what his favorite things are. Why him? I've always wondered, why him? He's young, handsome, charming. Just the way I was when I died. I think he knows I'm here. Subconsciously. Sometimes I feel he's looking right at me. Right at me. If I could get chills when he does that, I would. I was annoyed with him at first. I didn't want to be on Earth anymore. Not when I couldn't see my loved ones. I wanted to be anywhere but here.

But now, he's my human. He's my handsome, charming, human.

And I am him ghost.