”I see dead people.”

That was the life 4 year old Pani lived. He saw ghosts. Good ghosts, bad ghosts, lost or poor souls.

Except for one. One just wouldn’t leave. A violent ghost that hurt and tormented him without remorse. That was the case for the past 2 years.

His mother had made him cereal and he was trying to block out yo ur whispers. No one else could see you, but to him it was constant.

“Thank you mommy.”

He said awkwardly and he hesitantly brought the spoon to his mouth.