I’ve told my mother, and I’ve told my father.
I tell them there’s a man living here. The man I see has jet-black hair, and really dark eyes, his hair is slicked back, and he is very tall. He wears a long over coat one that is the old fashion kind. I see right through him, at night he talks to me, sometimes, I tell my mother, she doesn’t believe me. But, I wonder how he stands in the sunlight, I wonder because he is a spirit, right? Is he going to hurt me? That I don’t know.
All I know is what he says to me, “Don’t be frightened, my name is Brendon, I won’t hurt you. I’m only 19.” Those words haunt me, though they’re not frightening. I only feel sorrow for him.