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Our third place middle school entry was written by London Middle School student Zoe Robertson of Arlington Heights, Illinois. |
I was tickled, the clock kept ticking. It made me laugh. Does it ever stop ticking? It seems to go so very slowly during the horrid moments. No, but when a joyous moment comes around.... it flies by. Can't it just slow down for the good times?
Trust me it doesn't. I've been dead since October 4, 1918. A terrible day. My family paced around my dying bed. My mother was bawling. She told me that it would be okay. I was only 8. I was a little boy.
Tears ran down my mother's face as I closed my eyes for the last time. It was strange to open my eyes to find the room empty.
"I'm alive mom!", I screeched. Nobody responded. I looked around. "Mommy?"
I walked down the pale white hallways of the hospital. My vision was blurred. I saw my mother waiting in a chair. She was slumped over hugging my father. I took grasp of her hand, she sighed. I fell asleep, comforted. I rubbed my eyes gently. I looked down not understanding.
That's when the pain started. I would pace and occasionally moan as I wandered through the hospital. I'd play with the younger kids, but I vowed never to scare them. Some days I would venture outside the hospital.
On Halloween, I'm most adventurous. There it was October 31,2012. Floating, I would hide behind the parents, give the kids a small fright. This year I would pretend I was a child, trick-or-treating. I deserve this. It was mine in the first place; taken away from me.
I'd be a ghost, giggling like a child. Playing happily. Wouldn't it be fun? Candy was certainly different these days, much sweeter. Not as bitter or hard as years ago. Oh my, I'm getting off topic.
It was strange, one house looked so familiar. They seemed to notice me. Nobody has ever noticed me before. How do they have the skill? I didn't have it when I was alive.
Some are so very peculiar aren't they? A little boy slowly strolled behind me. I started to move swiftly. I'd be overcome with anger and regret. It wasn't fair. He was my age when I died. "NO FAIR", I thought and continued to try to hide from that boy. Now you must pardon me from my childish ways; though I am a child in spirit.
"My God!",I murmured to myself. "I'm a ghost! Go hide in the tree!". Angrily, I slid through the tree and decided I would continue the October 31st traditions. I slowly emerged from the tree.
I started to float away, then noticed the horrible. There was that little boy, thrown against the tree, sinking into the ground like a ghost. "HOW COULD THIS BE POSSIBLE?!?", I shrieked in jealousy. "ARE THERE OTHERS?" I've never met another like me before.
I was compelled to ask him. Though I started to walk the other way; unable to control my emotions. Excuse me. Turning back, he stared at me. There we were, two ghosts staring at each other. You'd wonder...
Kind eyes, stared at me. "Friends?", he asked in a whisper. With a nod of my head we walked together. For eternity we'd walk together. As you shall too.
Time, may never stop ticking. Whimsical, almost. I'll forever be walking... until, I'm at peace. Slowly, taking my time. Ever so gently I'll stroll with my friend. Doesn't make sense does it? You'll walk with me when your time comes...
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