Instant Monologues
Ghosts Instant Monologue


GHOST

INT: ATTIC ROOM. NIGHT.

KARA

I don't believe in ghosts, but last night one visited me, hovering just about my bed. It was a sparrow. The ghost, I mean. I thought it was a picture on the wall at first, since all of Mum's old paintings are up here in the attic with me. But it was glowing just faintly, and then it moved along the air and hovered right over me without moving its wings. I could see straight through it.

I thought if anything ever visited me from the Great Beyond, it'd be…I dunno, human, wouldn't it? I always thought you and Mum might give me a sign. Not by being ghosts, I mentioned that I don't believe in them, but something else. Just a sign that you're all right. It might stop me from dreaming about you near every night.

Sometimes they're horrible nightmares with you both pounding on the insides of your coffins and I can feel it vibrate through the ground and it startles me awake. But sometimes it's nice dreams where we're driving together or we're on holiday or something and those are worse because I wake up happy and then I remember.

You'd think the eerie glowing ghost of a sparrow would mean something, but I admit I can't suss it out. At first I thought you were sending me a message, but I'm not one to overreach. This sparrow barely noticed me. He just kept pecking at my bed sheets and flying around however it suited him.

Then I thought he might be a metaphor for something, like the rebirth of spring. 'Course I realized after a mo' that that's robins, so I was back to square one. Not a message, not a symbol, and not remotely frightening. He just flew about, regular as any old bird in the street, and then disappeared once the sun game up.

He may be back tonight. I wish I knew if it meant something. I like to think that if there's a bird afterlife, there's something out there for you and Mum. Please let me know if you sent him, and if he's meant to comfort me or warn me. It's been so quiet on your end for so long and it gets so lonely here in this empty house night after night after night.






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