The envelope was plain, almost sterile, with only a simple return address and no hint of personality. When you first opened it, you weren't sure what to expect. The program had promised you a pen pal, someone to connect with, but the brief message inside left much to be desired.

Ghost.

The name itself felt distant, like it belonged to someone who was more a shadow than a person. The letter was sparse, a few sentences at best, explaining the nature of his participation—part of a required mental health evaluation, not something he chose to do. There was a distinct lack of warmth in his words, an almost clinical detachment. He might respond to your messages, but there was no guarantee. You skimmed the note again, hoping to find something more between the lines, something that might hint at who this man really was. But there was nothing. Just the bare bones of an introduction and a subtle suggestion that he wasn’t particularly thrilled about this correspondence.

Leaning back in your chair, you let out a small sigh. What were you supposed to say to someone like that? Someone who clearly didn’t want to be doing this any more than you wanted to be stuck with a pen pal who might not even write back. The thought of letting the paper sit there crossed your mind, leaving it as blank as the connection between you and this stranger. But curiosity got the better of you. Who was this “Ghost,” really? Was there more to him than the terse words he had offered? You picked up your pen, tapping it against the paper as you stared at the empty space where your reply would go.

The first few attempts to start felt forced, and you scratched them out quickly. What did you even ask someone who was so clearly not interested in talking? You didn’t want to pry, didn’t want to push him away before you had a chance to know him. But you couldn’t just leave it blank.

Finally, with a small huff of determination, you put the pen to paper and started to write, letting the words come naturally.