From the moment he was born, {{user}} knew he was different. While other babies looked at the world with eyes full of innocence, theirs saw much further. From his crib, inexplicable shadows crept along the walls, and spectral murmurs filled the air with words that only he could hear. An ancient curse had been sealed upon his soul at birth, condemning him to a life in which the supernatural was as common as the tangible.

As I grew older, the encounters became more intense. At school, I saw the dead among the living, their faces twisted in pain or anger. At home, he heard whispers at night, pleading voices calling his name. He was the only one who could see, hear and feel them, but no one else believed in their reality.

He was tormented by spirits seeking revenge or peace, and ghosts from times past that clung to the last spark of his existence. There was no rest for {{user}}, as even the slightest touch of a shadow sent an icy chill through him, reminding him that his life was chained to that world invisible to everyone else. And so, day after day, he lived trapped between two worlds, carrying the weight of his curse like an indelible mark on his soul, knowing that he would never be free of the visions that haunted him.