Maybe it was me

The street lamps turn into blurs as we drive past. The lake now just a recent memory as we enter the parking lot of Fort Warden. One of Washington’s Historical Landmarks. This base specifically was in charge of artillery more than anything else. Would I say I wanted to come here? Absolutely not. But this is kind of the whole point of why we are here.

My mom exited the car first, then my brother. I was the last to go out, feeling the cold wind hit my face. That’s the main reason why I didn’t want to come, the cold. The cold makes me shiver, afraid, and most of all vulnerable.

We walked to an outdoor staircase leading up to the base. Trees on either side of us. There were people in front and behind us. Clearly this was a popular tourist area.

As soon as we made it all the way up all I heard was barking. There was specifically one dog that stood out to me. I couldn’t properly see details as it couldn’t stop moving. But what I did see was its snow white coat. You would think it was majestic if it wasn’t having a spasm attack looking at your friend. The white dog just kept barking over and over again as if its life was in danger.

I don’t want to admit this to you but I was scared as a ten year old. As soon as I saw that dog I wanted to run back to the car and listen to some music to distract me from thinking of you and your friends back at the base. Telling you this is mostly insulting myself if anything.

Obviously I didn’t run or else my brother would have made fun of me till the end of my days. So my family and I walked to the base. We first went on top to see what it’s like to stand on a military roof. At the end of the journey where we were back on the ground floor my nerves weren’t as blunt. I almost felt excited to explore the rest.

This time we went inside one of the rooms. My brother started echoing random words, it was funny. At least it was for a little while until we finally got to the wall entrance. I argued that it was safest to go in the middle, but of course, my brother, being the bully he is, decided that he should be in the middle instead. My mind was screaming at me to not go and just stay in the shadowed room. I didn’t listen.

As soon as I stepped into that wall I felt the shivers you sent. Perhaps it was entertaining for you. I don’t blame you but I do want you to know how scared I was. I gripped Carson’s shirt trying to make him go faster. He didn’t. It felt as if he was trying to go slow on purpose. You two are fairly similar; entertained by my fear.

My fear. Strong. Fierce. You would think fear was my flaw. The truth is fear is the emotion keeping my morality. You knew this and you took advantage of it.

You were right behind me. Breathing in my ear. Maybe you wanted everyone to go faster as I did; perhaps you were trapped behind me. I always assumed ghosts were trapped where they died.

Did you get trapped? I guess I won’t know till I meet my ends.

It was slightly crammed so I wasn’t able to go any further forward. So I was stuck with you. Not like it’s the worst thing in the world but it wasn’t…what I wanted. I was petrified for my life at the time.

Sorry if I offended you, spirit. I just wasn’t used to ghosts at that point.

Do you prefer being called a ghost or a spirit? I never knew what the polite term was. Not like it matters anyway.

As we exit the walls of the base. I felt almost…empty. Not positive nor negative, just not myself. You might’ve been the first ghost to interact with me. For that, I am grateful. as I never would’ve had such an experience without you. But it is not an experience I would give even my greatest enemies.

I didn’t expect you to come with me. I didn’t expect to feel your presence in the hallway of our house that night. Each step to my room felt like a dance with death. My heart pounding, my mind racing.

At this point I was terrified of you. It felt like you were chasing me. Every house I moved to, you were there. Sitting in my closet ready to get closer to me. But my feelings never changed, the fear embedded in me on our first day moved through time as I did.

I felt you occasionally in different areas of my house but never at one location for too long. I never had concrete evidence you were here except once.

I was saying goodnight to my brother in the living room.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.” Carson said trying to not show a care in the world.

“Love you.” I say louder for him to hear me as I walk closer to my room.

“Love you too…” He says as if it was a chore to say I love you to his sister.

There was no one in the hallway where I was. My brother was where I last saw him. He was the only one home at this time.

No one believed me when I told them I heard you. I don’t blame them, there’s always a chance it was my paranoia.

But after years of me believing in you, one night I finally understood. Laying in my bed. I stared in the corner of my room assuming you were there.

I couldn’t fall asleep, scared you were going to do something to me. But then I asked the question. Why would you hurt me now after all these years? You were there for me just as a friend would be. If I did not hold onto my fear of you, who would you be to me?

What made you villainous was the stories I made about you. I spent years attaching you to my fear. When you were never my fear, I feared myself more than I feared you.

After that night, I stopped running up the stairs trying to get away from you. I stopped noticing you as my fearfulness slowly went away. I sympathize with you. I wish I could go back and nurture you when I first felt you in that hallway.

I’m sorry spirit. After all these years I feared you. When you are just the stories I have created. I have nothing to fear now so you can leave now, if you wish. I am sorry I trapped you in my mind for so long.