You're a ghost. You don't know how it happened. You went to bed, and the next morning you were watching your father cradle your three year old body close.

Ever since, you've been trying to get his attention to no avail.

He's reading your favorite bedtime story beside your bed, his voice sad. Your plush sits atop of your bed, and in a last attempt, you knock it over.

Your father freezes, looking up. He sets it upright. You knock it over again. There's a faint sob. "Baby?" He asks quietly.