Her Voice

Many people don't tend to believe in ghosts. And the people that do only believe that they're the scary evil ones that are out to kill you. But when I was just a little boy, I saw a ghost. And I knew that she was good. She was not stuck somewhere between here and heaven. Nor was she out to get anyone and everyone because of her tragic death. Now, i never actually planned to sit down and had deep conversations with her. Oh, no, I had much better things to think about. Like getting my ten cents for the movies, and Jimmy's new baseball glove. But then I saw her. And I just remember the wind being knocked out of me. Not because of the pure fact of her ghostliness, but instead because of the pure fact of her unrecognizable beauty.


She had almond shaped eyes that were the most stunning shad of ocean blue. And with a rim of gray, they always made me wonder if she could see through me since she was dead. Or what she herself saw, when she was alive. Her plump lips that sat right below her button nose were not exactly nude, but had a very fresh coat of light brown lipstick. You know, the kind of lipstick you where when you want to wear make up but don't want to look like a sl*t I guess. It was easy to look past her perfectly aged hands as she touched her rosy glowing cheeks. Even past her dark, almost black hair that was pulled back in a bun with wisps of hair escaping and enclosing her young and youthful face. But when she opened her mouth to speak, it d*** near broke your heart. The absolute femininity of her voice and the clear and concise speech aloud her to connect with you in a way no living mortal could. Because she wasn't just telling you the secrets of the afterlife, she was singing them to you.





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