“So, where ya from?” the boy asked. He spoke with a Southern accent.
He still hadn’t put his shirt on
.
“I…I…uh…who are you?” I asked.

“The name’s Billy,” he responded. “Pleasure to meet ya.”

I was speechless.
“So you live in a barn?” I inquired. With every word that came out of my mouth, I sounded like a blithering idiot.

Luckily, Billy didn’t seem to notice.
“Naw, but I spend most of my time here. So does Pa. But we also reside at Miller’s Manor. Our spirits, they’re always gonna dwell there,” he went on.

“I don’t understand.How is this….what is going on? I.. I don’t believe in ghosts, you know,” I murmered, trembling with fear and astonishment.
“Well, I reckon there’s a saying. ‘Seeing is believing.’ You see me, and you just saw my Pa. So ya might as well believe in us. We ain’t going nowhere,” the boy replied.
“You’re ghosts, then?” I asked dumbly.
“As far as I know, me and Pa are. See?” Billy reached out to me with his translucent arm. He touched me, but I felt nothing.