Not too long ago, I made a deal with my mom. A scary deal but I was serious, we were serious when we talked about it one humid summer day when all my other smaller siblings were enjoying their afternoon nap.

Out of the blue, I looked into my mom’s eyes and asked her that if in any case, if she dies, she’d promise she’d visit me as a ghost. I am no brave soul, easily terrified of all the horror movies no matter how hard my parents tell me it’s just a movie setting. I can’t sleep at the thought of ghosts and witches and all other dark elements that could be watching me or near me. God, I hate that topic.

As an adult, I found myself heavily disturbed days after watching The Others, What Lies Beneath and The Ring (I curse myself why did I even tried to watch it!).

So, why did I make a strange pact with my mom that summer day? I don’t know. I was not ready to lose any of my parents that time (I was 10), nor I am ready to lose them now so I thought in case she goes (knock on wood!), I’ll be less sad if I can still see her, even as a ghost!

My mother, half-amused and smiling, of course, agreed and even told me she’d kiss me in my sleep.

Twenty years has passed since that day she promised. My mother is healthy and living with me right now. Does she remember the ghost pact we had? I doubt it. Do I still want her to visit me as a ghost in case something happens?

Call me crazy but yes, I still want to. 

This writing exercise is fueled by the writing prompt “ghost” at Sunday Scribblings.