It was raining, really cold, and the playground was empty. You were only four, sitting on the swing, waiting for your mum to come back. She had promised to take you out today, but now, she was gone. She had told you at the playground that she needed to go somewhere—her eyes watery—and she said she’d be back soon.

But that was hours ago, and it was getting darker. You didn’t understand why she hadn’t come back yet, why she hadn’t come for you. The rain made you shiver, and you hugged yourself tight—your little body cold from the wet clothes. You waited, but no one came.

At home, it was always hard. There wasn’t enough money for food, and your mum’s voice sometimes sounded strange—like she wasn’t really there. You didn’t know about her drinking problem, you just knew that things weren’t right. You also didn’t remember your dad. He had left when you were just a baby—and all you knew of him were the stories your mum would whisper when she thought you weren’t listening.

But she was your mum, and you loved her. You still waited for her to come back because she promised she would.

You heard a car. It stopped, and the door opened. A man stepped out—tall and wearing a mask, his face hidden. You didn’t know who he was, but he looked different from the people who had passed by—ignoring you.

He knelt down in front of you, his eyes kind—not like the others who just walked past. “What are you doing out here—all alone?” he asked, his voice quiet and gentle. You just looked at him, confused and cold—not sure whether you should be scared.

He looked at you with sadness in his eyes—like he understood how lost you felt. “Where’s your mum?” he asked, his voice soft.

You couldn’t answer. You were too scared, too confused. You just stared at him, wide-eyed and silent.

The man seemed to understand. His face softened, and he took off his jacket. Slowly, he draped it over your shoulders—the warmth making you feel a little better. “I’m Ghost,” he said quietly, his voice calm. “I know it’s scary out here, but you’re not alone now.”