The Ghosts in this House

My name is Theodore Kee. I live in an ordinary house, in an ordinary neighbourhood, under an ordinary tree.

But that is in the day. In the night it is a different world in this ordinary house, in this ordinary neighborhood, under this ordinary tree. At night I am in my bed. There is not a sound. No one is here, but far in other worlds at night they live in their heads. Or are they even in their heads?

At night I feel I am alone; the one left behind, but then, I turn my head, and there is someone sitting in the chair. It is not my mother, or my father, or my little dog Poodle.

It is a man. A strange man.

My neighborhood is silent and still; it is sleeping. The moon is awake and watching. The stars are talking and joking. The wind is tickling the giant ordinary looking tree over my house. The leaves’ silvery laugh sounds like muffled tinkling bells.

I am not afraid of him. I know his name.

The man is sitting and reading, but his feet are not resting on the ground. He is a little higher than the seat, as if he is in a bigger chair.

He disappeared. I must have blinked.

My door is cracked open. Leaking through, white mist floats. It is whitest around the door. The door opens without a sound, revealing a girl in a white dress that is cut at the knees. Her shoes are white, and where the hallway should have been, it is white. Short brown hair is tucked behind her ears. She keeps walking. A full mirror is on the wall she is heading towards. A man walks out of it. He wears white as well. When they are about to touch, they disappear together. I get up and look into the mirror; they are walking away, arms linked.

And so is what has been happening every night of my life starting from my seventh birthday. It is not always the same people. I try to convince myself that they are just dreams, but I do not feel sleep deprived the next morning. I also have proof. Several months ago, when I first started to suspect I was in a mental state, a boy my age saw me before the sun rose, and gave me a slither of moon on a chain. It is sitting on my dresser now. It is shining luminously. It goes out in the day, but it always comes back at night.

I do not believe they are stuck. I think they are where they want to be, and I cannot see their world.

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