The silent witness
When I died, I watched in anguish as my family cried out my name, their tears staining their faces.
I stood by them, desperately trying to offer comfort, to brush away their tears with invisible hands.
Then, as my mother clutched my photo to her chest and collapsed in despair, the heartbreaking truth struck me—I was already a ghost, powerless to reach out and change their fate.
© sriiii
I stood by them, desperately trying to offer comfort, to brush away their tears with invisible hands.
Then, as my mother clutched my photo to her chest and collapsed in despair, the heartbreaking truth struck me—I was already a ghost, powerless to reach out and change their fate.
© sriiii