The doctors said it was a heart attack, but I knew better. She really died from a broken heart. I was ten years old.
That was seven years ago. My father left because of her—the other woman. I didn’t care who she was or how good of a person she claimed to be. I hated her. I’ll always hate her.
My name is Robert. That’s all you need to know. I’m what you call a loner. That’s putting it mildly. The only one I ever confide in is my sister Emily. At twenty-four years old, she’s the most clairvoyant person I know. I don’t believe in ghosts, or “spirits,” as she calls them. I stopped believing in them after my father left and my mother died. I had no reason to believe in them. I didn’t want someone watching over my pathetic life, feeling sorry for me. It was not until the day that Laura came into my life that I thought anyone would ever genuinely like me.
It was a sunny fall afternoon. I always traveled over to the park after school to collect my thoughts. My favorite bench was located under the big oak tree in the center of the park. I would sit on the rickety old bench, staring at the passerby’s: the perfect couple, young and in love; the elderly man, who is older and wiser than time; and of course, the caring mother with three children. I always think that her kids are staring at me, laughing, bragging that their family life is so much better than mine.
On this particular afternoon, I was sitting on my bench when a strange girl walked by. She was surrounded by a group of gossiping girls. I didn’t think anything of it until I noticed her staring at me. I even thought for a second that she smiled at me. But it wasn’t with her mouth. She smiled at me with her eyes, those pale blue eyes. It took me awhile before I realized where I had seen those eyes.
Every day for a week this girl would walk by with her friends; she always stopped and stared at me, smiling with her eyes. The last day of that week she was finally alone. I don’t know why, but I decided to get up off my bench and walk over to her.
“Hi, my name’s Robert.”
“I know who you are,” she answered softly.
“How do you know who I am?” I asked, confused on how this girl I had never seen before this week knew who I was. It’s not like I had any friends that could have told her about me.
“I always knew who you were. I’ll always know about you.” Her calm and soft tone spooked me more than anything. And there was something about those eyes. The way they looked at me; it was almost warming. That really scared me.
I blinked hard, as if getting out of a deep trance. “Okay, you’re really creeping me out. Please tell me who you are.”
“My name is Laura. Laura Michael. I know your sister, Emily.”
O, okay, I thought, this girl is not completely crazy. I’ll have to ask Emily about her later.
“I have a message for you, Robert. I know it will be difficult, but you need to live your life, and stop feeling sorry for yourself. It’s not your fault that your father left. Please promise me you’ll be happier.”
Wait, how did she….
“How do you know about my father? Who are you??”
But she said nothing. Instead, she handed me an old photo. “What’s this for…?”
She did not respond, but merely smiled, turned around and walked away. I could had sworn she disappeared into thin air, but I will never know for sure. I looked down at this photograph; it was quite wrinkly, as if it had been looked at a thousand times. Taking a closer look at it, I almost yelled out in the middle of the park. There, staring back at me was a little boy and his mother. But what stood out more was those pale blue eyes. The same eyes I had. The same eyes my mother had.
I’ll never know for sure if Laura was in fact the ghost of my mother. But it doesn’t matter. I am now living my life the way I should have started to years ago. I gave the picture to Emily. She needed it more than me. I don’t need an old photograph. All I need to do is look in the mirror. Every time I see those pale blue eyes, I think of her. And that makes me happy.
