I do not believe in them. I never have. It is just my bad luck that they believe in me. I’ve always tried to avoid them, decided that I’m not going to look at them as they try to disturb my day to day routines. I don’t see or hear them when they try and communicate with me, but they still fail to get the message that I am not interested. That they aren’t really there.

It’s apparently a thing with all the women in my family, they all seem to see and communicate with these things. They enjoy the fact that they are perpetually haunted by people that they have never previously met and don’t actually care about. That’s why half of them have gone away now. The rest of the world think like me, they do not exist...or if they do they’re not normal so we should ignore them.

Part of me knows that they must exist because I see them (even though I ignore them) and that might make me crazy too. But I’m not crazy, no, because I know that they are not really there. It’s just my mind, they tell me so! Not that I listen. I wish they would all go away, talking talking talking at me all the time, trying to make me see them, trying to make me hear them. Why won’t they accept that they shouldn’t exist?!

They don’t visit me as much as they did, I don’t think they like it here. They don’t like the white walls and the smell of disinfectant. It’s safe here, in the real world, not like my poor family locked out in a world full of crazy people. They see me sometimes; they come with the guard into my safe place. The guard keeps my haunters away too, they don’t like his long coat, they told me so.

I stay in my safe place, away from all the crazy people. I even have bars on my window to keep them all out.

The End

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