What do you think would happen if one day, when you decide it is finally time to sleep, feeling normal.
You finish whatever you were doing.
You stretch a little.
You keep your phone in the corner of the bed like you always do.
You switch off the light, and the room slowly settles into silence.
The only light left is the soft moonlight slipping in through the window, spreading across the room in a lazy way.
You get into bed, pull the blanket over yourself properly, and let out a small breath.
You thank God for the day.
Nothing special, just a quiet thought of gratitude.
It was a decent day.
Nothing bad happened.
That alone feels like enough.
Your eyes feel heavy.
They are begging you to sleep.
So, you turn to your side, adjusting the pillow under your head.
You blink once.
Then again.
Your eyelids finally close.
You turn slightly.
You blink.
You blink again.
And then the moonlight shifts just enough for you to notice something beside you.
Something is there.
Right next to you.
Smiling.
"Shrieeekkkkkkkk—!"
Okay. Stop.
That's it.
Enough imagination for today
I don't think we need to imagine further.
Honestly, there is no point dragging it out.
Either you won't take this seriously, or you won't be able to understand the kind of fear that hits you in that moment.
I don't blame you for either.
How can I be so sure?
Well, it's kind of a daily occurrence for me.
Seeing ghosts.
Hehehe.
…Sigh.
I know. I know.
It's really not something to laugh about.
And trust me, I don't laugh because it's funny.
I laugh because-
Well, I just laugh.
Not like I can do anything else.
And…
On top of that I am a bit lucky.
No, really. I am.
I am not 6/6.
Huh?
You don't understand what that means?
It means I have poor vision.
Very poor vision.
Not only am I nearsighted, but I am also nearsighted.
I can't see anything properly.
Whether it's close or far.
"Hahahaaa."
You look confused.
I can tell.
You're probably thinking how bad eyesight could possibly help in a situation like this.
Well, let me explain.
I can't see well.
Not properly, at least.
Details are my enemy.
Sharp shapes, clear faces, exact expressions—those things rarely reach me without my specs.
Now let's take the current situation as an example.
The thing lying beside me might have big white bulging eyes.
Or maybe slanted eyes like some twisted joker version of a human.
It might be staring directly at me with a wide smile.
But I don't know.
I really don't.
I can't see whether its nose is upside down or if its hair is standing straight like it was electrocuted.
I can't even be sure it's a "he".
Everything is blurry.
The moonlight doesn't help much either.
It just shows patches of colour, blending into each other like a badly painted wall.
-Brown. That might be my desk.
-Blue. That is surely my jacket hanging on the chair.
-Black. That's… well, that's the ghost.
-White. Must be the ghost's teeth.
Hmm.
It must have brushed very seriously.
To have white shining teeth even after death is honestly impressive.
I should have probably asked it what toothpaste it uses.
If this was a normal situation, that is.
"Oh."
It turns its head to the other side.
Must be sleepy.
I wonder if it's still smiling creepily from that angle, or if it finally decided to rest its facial muscles.
You must be thinking I am a fool.
Or worse, that I am mentally unstable.
Making things up.
Talking about thing that aren't even real.
Don't even exist.
For you atleast.
And truthfully, that's normal.
That- that reaction is natural.
I would think the same if I were you.
But you need to understand something.
I have to wear specs.
Every single day.
They are not optional.
They are a part of my life, just like my phone or my wallet.
Without them, I can't function properly.
I have to study.
I have to read.
I have to work toward a future that people keep asking me about.
And when I do wear them, I see everything clearly.
I see them clearly.
I remember a morning once.
The sun was already up, traffic moving slowly, horns blaring like usual.
I was standing by the roadside, waiting to cross.
With my specs on, everything was sharp. Too sharp.
There was one standing near the electric pole.
Tall, thin, its face twisted in a way that made my stomach tighten.
It wasn't trying to scare anyone.
It just stood there, staring at nothing.
A little ahead, near the tea stall, was another one.
This one looked almost friendly.
It leaned against the stall like it belonged there, watching people pass by with mild curiosity.
If you didn't look closely, you might think it was just another tired person waiting for tea.
Not that you can see it.
And then there was one sitting on the footpath, legs stretched out, completely relaxed.
It didn't care about the world at all.
They were all different.
Scary.
Calm.
Indifferent.
They can't be denied.
What I saw earlier cannot just be me imagining.
Even now, I am aware of it.
And even if my eyes fail me, my body doesn't.
The cold sensation is still there.
It's coming from my side.
The window is on the other side of the bed.
That's where the air should be coming from.
But this cold is different.
It feels heavier, like it's sinking into my skin instead of brushing past it.
I swallow.
"Yawn."
Yeah. I yawn.
Not because I'm bored. Not because I'm relaxed.
It's just my body doing its thing, trying to pretend everything is normal.
Whatever.
Honestly, this is still better than waking up with a murderer holding a knife beside me.
At least a ghost can't kill me directly.
"Right?"
I whisper softly into the dark.
There is no answer.
Of course there isn't.
The room stays quiet, except for my own breathing.
Slow. A little shaky, but still there.
"…."
I shift slightly under the blanket.
My arm brushes closer to where the cold is coming from.
I don't pull away.
If it touches me, it touches me.
I'm too tired to care.
"Let's just sleep," I mumble to myself.
It's not like I'm getting any answers anyway.
The ghost doesn't speak.
It doesn't move again.
The cold stays, steady and patient.
My eyes grow heavy once more.
Sleep as always wins.