I believe in ghosts. It seems silly, I know. But I live each day (and night) anticipating the apparition of something I’ve never truly seen, but believe so strongly that it exists.
I’ve tried to order the events that brought me here over and over again but there’s no order that makes sense to me. All I know for sure is where it starts.
I’m a kid, surrounded by Christianity. Family, friends, neighbors, all alike in their beliefs. I’m a kid, forced into something I don’t understand.
All the while I’ve become infatuated with the supernatural. The Christians tell me “Ghosts do not exist. Ghosts do not exist,” but I can’t help but wonder if there really is something hiding in my closet. I try to push these “impure” thoughts aside, try to pay attention in Sunday School, try to dream of Heaven instead of the things that come from Hell.
And here’s where time gets sketchy. It’s a realization point, but I’m not sure when it really happened- maybe five years ago, maybe right now as I’m writing it down. But I’ve found common ground between all people: God. Maybe not God Himself, but God as an idea. Because for everyone, the concept of God is an answer to the unknown.
We all find comfort in knowing what is out there. Some discover their answers through religion, some through lack thereof. And some, like myself, find answers in the paranormal.
Contrary to popular belief, I do not think that religion is a waste of time, nor do I think everyone should believe in ghosts. But I do think everyone needs to find their own faith, their own beliefs. Faith is about fulfillment, and Christianity just never left me fulfilled, but I’ve found something else that does.
Life is just a search for knowledge. And with that I leave you, a girl finding answers in cemeteries and beneath her bed.
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