When I was a child I had a friend that I hung out with almost daily. We would walk through the village, play in the fields or stay at home. During that time she told me that she was friends with a ghost. I cannot remember his name but she told me he was very kind and always helped her out. I don't remember if I believed her but I wanted to play with her so at the very least I pretended to believe in him. So we played together. Me her and the ghost. She told me the things he said, what he did. And I nodded and smiled. I haven't seen him. But she certainly did.
When I got home I had this weird feeling. Like I wasn't alone. And so I joked around, thinking that the ghost must have followed me home. I talked to him the way I would talk to my friend and played by myself. When it was time to go to bed I listened to my cassette and fell asleep early.
I remember waking up that night. I heard something move downstairs. My wardrobe opened and closed. I was certain of it because usually my mother would lay out clothes for the day. But it was too early. Maybe around three in the morning. But I was a child and tired so I went back to sleep. The next morning I noticed that my slippers were not next to my bed where I had left them. And when I walked down the stairs I found them there next to my wardrobe but there were no clothes. I asked my mother why she had placed my slippers in front of the wardrobe but not laid out any clothes. She looked at me in confusion and hesitated for a moment. "I just woke up," she told me. "I didn't have the time to do that yet."
When I looked back at the wardrobe I had the same feeling as the day before. That I wasn't alone. That the ghost had followed me home.