Fire and Heaven: A Ghost’s Journey from Tragedy to Grace

 I am a ghost. I have been haunting this mansion for a few years now; I remember everything about my life. I died here in a tragic fire that consumed my childhood home. The mansion was rebuilt by my family while I was existing in the ruins. I had no choice; I could only move around the property on which Skellatar house was located. This was my existence. My family soon moved back in once the construction was complete. It was good to have them around again. I have seen many people come and go, some curious, some fearful, and some greedy. I have tried to scare them away, to protect my family and my home from their intrusion. But they never listen. They always come back with cameras and gadgets to prove my existence. Sometimes, my kids joined in on the ghost hunt. They don't understand me. They don't respect me. They don't care about me. And I see everything differently now. People, animals, and objects appear transparent, ethereal and sometimes glowing. I cannot interact with them as I used to. I could only move certain things; everything was off-limits. And the things I could move were useless to me. 

While wandering through the mansion's corridors one day, I saw another ghost. At first, I was startled. I had never seen another ghost before. This ghost must have died close by. Why haven't I seen her before? We were both excited as we started talking, and I realised we had much in common. I found out her name was Sarah. We were both lost souls, wandering through the ghostly world without purpose.

We talked for hours, sharing stories about our past lives and experiences as ghosts. I even found out Sarah could roam where she pleased. She wasn't confined to one area. Which made me think why I can't. It was like meeting an old friend after years of separation.

Then, out of nowhere, she changed. We had only known each other for a month or so. Sarah became obsessed with me. Sarah wanted me to be hers forever. She said she loved me more than anything and would do anything for me.

At first, having someone care about me so much was flattering. But then Sarah started following me everywhere and wouldn't leave me alone. She became jealous of anyone who came near me and became angry and violent.

She said she wanted to make me happy and planned to set the mansion on fire again to liberate us from the shackles of this cruel reality. 

I knew her plan was dangerous and could harm others who didn't deserve it. So, I decided to confront her and tell her that what she was doing was wrong.

We argued for hours until Sarah finally realised what she was doing was wrong and apologised. Then Sarah admitted that she couldn't even if she wanted to; the things she could physically move were long gone.

From that day on, we remained friends, but I kept her away from me.

Then, one day, while watching my son play outside, I saw the sky opening up. It was a sight that I will never forget. The sky was filled with dazzling colours and shapes like a giant kaleidoscope. I felt a surge of awe and wonder as if I was witnessing something divine. I heard a voice, gentle and soothing, calling my name. It was the voice of God, inviting me to join him in his glorious realm. I felt a tug in my heart, a longing to leave this world behind and enter the heavenly kingdom. But I also felt sad, knowing I would have to say goodbye to my family and Sarah. I hesitated, torn between two choices. Then, I realised that God was not forcing me to go with him. He gave me free will, a gift he had bestowed on all his children. He wanted me to choose what was best for me, whether to stay or go. I thanked him for his love and mercy and asked him for more time to decide. He smiled and nodded, and the heavens closed up again. I was left with peace and gratitude, knowing that he would always be with me whatever I chose.

I decided to stay in the mansion longer, hoping for closure and peace. I wanted to say goodbye to my family.

I searched the mansion for any photos, letters, or objects that could remind me of them. But I could not interact with any of them. And they were all post-fire anyway. I found some old albums and journals in the library, which were protected from the fire in a fireproof safe and opened them with curiosity and nostalgia. I saw pictures of my wife, kids, parents, siblings, cousins, friends, and myself. I read their words, their thoughts, their feelings, their dreams. I felt a wave of emotions wash over me, a mix of joy and sorrow, love and regret.

I realised how much I had loved them, how much they had loved me. I wished I could hug them and talk to them again. But I knew it was impossible. They were out of reach, and I was alone.

I closed the albums and journals and put them back in their places. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I wiped it away and sighed. Then, for the next 3 days, I spent an entire day with my wife. The next is with my 10-year-old boy. Then it was Brinaa's turn, Daddy's favourite. Yes, parents have favourites. There is nothing like the love of a father and daughter. I watched her colouring in a picture of a unicorn and thinking how she got so good at it. 

On the fourth day, I visited the graveyard next to the mansion, where most of my family and I were buried. I walked through the rows of tombstones, reading the names and dates of the people who had once lived in the mansion. Some of them were familiar to me, some of them were strangers. Some of them had died young, and some of them had lived long. Some of them had died peacefully, some of them had died violently.

I reached the end of the graveyard, where a monument with a plaque read: In memory of Carl Mustapha, who tragically died in the Skellatar House fire May 15th, 1994, Rest in peace.

I felt a shock run through me as I realised this was my grave. Which always happened when I visited. This was where I had been buried after the fire. This was where my family had mourned me and honoured me.

I touched the stone with my hand and felt a coldness that chilled me to the bone.

I looked around and saw that the graveyard was empty and silent. No one was there.

I felt a sadness that overwhelmed me. I felt a loneliness that crushed me.

I wished I could leave this place. I wished I could go with God.

But then I heard a voice behind me.

"Hello," it said.

I turned around and saw a young man standing there. He looked familiar to me, but I could not place him.

He smiled at me and said:

"I've been waiting for you."

He extended his hand to me as an invitation. I accepted it without hesitation. As soon as our fingers touched, I felt a surge of light and warmth. I was instantly transported to a place of peace and bliss. I had reached heaven.