Fleeting Ghosts
The night was still, save for the whispering of the wind through the tall grass. A single oak tree stood nearby, its ancient branches swaying gently, offering shelter beneath its lush green canopy. Beyond the hill, fields stretched far into the distance, dotted with the faint glows of small towns. It was a quiet place, a place where time seemed to slow.
The boy sat on the soft earth, legs stretched outward, his arms propped behind him for support. The weight in his chest hadn’t lessened—not with time, not with distance. If anything, it had grown heavier. The questions in his mind crawled like insects, relentless and unyielding.
A girl knelt beside him, her presence ethereal, her form slightly blurred at the edges. The moonlight passed through her in places, illuminating the sadness in her translucent eyes.
“Something feels different tonight,” she murmured, her voice carrying a distant echo, as if spoken from another world.
The boy exhaled sharply, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
“Different? No. It's the same. The same weight crushing my chest. The same questions clawing at my mind.” He turned his head slightly, his expression darkening. “Hell, you're the same ghost of a girl I used to know.”
The girl lowered her gaze, her fingers hesitating before reaching towards his hand. She hovered just above it, never quite touching.
“I never stopped caring, you do know that?” she said softly.
The boy’s jaw tightened. He met her eyes, searching them for the truth he feared he would never find.
“Do I?” His voice was sharp, but beneath it lay something fragile. “The girl I would've died for...” He paused, biting his lip, his fingers digging into the earth. “She wouldn’t have left me like this. She wouldn't have burned me alive just to feel the coldness of someone else.”
The girl winced. Shadows of regret played across her face.
“I never meant to hurt you... that...” She inhaled deeply, as if trying to steady herself, though no air filled her lungs. “That wasn't me. I'm the version of her that loved you, remember?” She tried to smile, but it wavered, crumbling before it could fully form.
The boy’s expression darkened. His fingers curled into a fist, shaking with restrained fury.
“Never meant to?” He scoffed. “Yeah, sure. You definitely didn’t mean to leave.”
His fist came down hard against the earth, sending dirt scattering.
“You let another man touch you. Use you.” His voice cracked, the weight of his own words suffocating him. He looked down, his face contorted in pain. “I guess I never really knew you... Did I?”
The girl flinched, as though his words had the power to wound her even in death.
The boy’s voice grew quieter now, but no less sharp.
“That night, another man looked into the same eyes I once loved so deeply. The same eyes I swore were my home... And he dug you out. He took what was mine.”
He let the words hang in the night air, thick with grief.
“And you enjoyed it.”
A long silence followed. The wind carried the scent of grass and distant rain, but the boy felt nothing.
“You enjoyed it so much, you ignored every call I made. Every desperate attempt from the man who would've loved you until his last breath.”
His shoulders trembled as he dropped his face into his hands.
“You ignored me. And for what? For a man who doesn't truly care? For a man who loves what you are now and not what you'll become because he's obsessed with you being young? A man who saw you as nothing more than a fleeting moment of pleasure?”
The girl opened her mouth to speak but found no words.
“You took what we shared—the gift of intimacy, the bond God gave to two people who truly love each other—and you gave it away like it meant nothing.”
His voice had lost its anger now. It was only sorrow, only the weight of betrayal sinking deeper into his bones.
“You lied to me. Made me believe I was safe in your embrace... until the end of time.”
The girl’s form flickered, as though the weight of his grief was unraveling whatever tether kept her there.
The boy let out a shuddering breath, his hands gripping his knees.
“Now, every day, the same question runs through my head: Did she ever love me to begin with? And if she did, even just for a moment... why do this to me?”
The girl closed her eyes.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered.
And just like that, she was gone.
The wind blew through the empty space she had occupied, but the boy remained still. The night stretched on, unchanged, indifferent to the storm within him. The oak tree swayed gently, its leaves whispering secrets to the night.
And he was alone.
Yet, in his solitude, something shifted. It wasn’t relief, nor was it closure. But there was a fleeting moment of peace, however fragile it may be.
He exhaled deeply, stretching his arms outward, lifting his head to the sky. The stars shimmered above, watching over the world in silent indifference.
Then, in the corner of his vision, something stirred.
A thin strand of dust—soft and shimmering, like pixie dust—floated upward from where she had been. It twisted and danced on the wind, drifting higher and higher toward the heavens.
His breath caught in his throat as he followed its ascent. It climbed, weightless and free, until it became one with the stars.
For a brief moment, the sky twinkled—a single flicker of light, small yet unmistakable.
A final goodbye.
The boy closed his eyes, letting the night hold him in its quiet embrace. And for the first time in a long while, he let go.