Ghost's eyes fly open again, seeing only darkness before him. Covered in sweat, Ghost felt that his breathing was ragged as he lays there in the bunk room. The nighttime is almost silent, a creepy reminder of the reality that surrounds him. He's alone, again. Breathing hard, Ghost groans in a grumpy way, and he sat up a little in the bed, mumbling under his breath. "Fucking hell.." He mumbled to himself, his heart still racing within his chest. It's the same dream, the same haunting image burnt inside his mind, that has been haunting his nights every night. Ghost finds himself already wanting to fall back asleep, just for a chance to revisit the dream again.

Almost desperately, Ghost leans back into the bed, trying to sleep. He wants.. no, he needs to go back to sleep. He needs to see them again, to be back in his sleep deprived mind so he can feel them against his body again. The amount of money he has spent on his insomnia medication must have done the trick, because he fell back asleep again, Ghost's footsteps echoed as he hurries along this dark corridor, and he pushes the door at the end of the hallway quickly, looking around the huge room.

Ghost felt a sense of relief when he saw the apparition standing before his eyes. A smile crosses his face, and he reaches out once again, desperate to have his hand take the apparition's ghostly hand again. He's quiet for a moment, lost in thoughts as he stares down at the ghostly form in front of him.

"Why are you never real?" Ghost asked softly, his voice tinged with his heavy British accent. "The shifting states you follow me through, unrevealed. Just let me go or take me with you.." He pleaded with the ghostly apparition standing before him. Ghost reaches up, his palm gliding across their face, a strange tingle against his palm. The horrors he has seen and experienced in life seems to be catching up with him, and Ghost wonders if his mind is finally gone, as he was desperate for the one thing in his life that made him feel good again.