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Sipping my coffee, I watched the people come in and out. Most of the people didn’t notice me, but I didn’t miss anyone. I never missed a single soul. Some of them, I felt like I could hear and feel what they were thinking, even though no one else could. It was a special connection I made with the world.

Maybe not the world so to speak, but certainly with humanity. It was like I was trapped inside of a capsule and I was only allowed to be released when I knew how to control it. Mind you, I couldn’t always control his feeling. It was much like a zombie with brains or vampire with blood.

If I didn’t take a soul into me every once in a while, I would go hungry or I would be weak. I’ve managed to take a lot of different people into me. I think the worst few were babies. Now, don’t get me wrong, I have a keen sense for things, but these were babies that were going to die, but I took their souls before they would suffer. I would leave them with just enough that the next time they fell asleep, they just wouldn’t wake up.
Allow me to explain.

I used to volunteer at a hospital for children. Not because I wanted to help them, but because I knew this was the one place I could eat without anyone wondering why I was there. Kids with cancer, tumors, kids who knew that their lives were going to be cut short.

I encountered this one girl, Agatha, and yes, name is horrible, but the child wasn’t so bad. She was a burn victim. Third degree burns that affected her breathing, her spirit and sadly, she was in a coma for three and a half weeks. Hooked up to breathing tubes and machines to help her eat, but what kind of life is that for a child who wasn’t even old enough to go to school let alone be the one to decide if she should live.

Every day I would visit her, and I would learn more. I kissed her once and I could see her life. Her mom would leave her alone and would not feed her. Her father wasn’t abusive or anything, but he worked more than he had time for her. Her mom threw a rag on the stove. Her mom left her sitting in the high chair, struggling against the flames while she made her escape. Agatha was left there, while the plastic of the chair burned right into her skin.

When I felt her passed, I swear I saw her begging for me to let her go. Life for her didn’t even begin, so why not let it end just as quick? So, I did. I leaned down and I inhaled slowly. I felt her enter my body. I cried.

As soon as I got home, I cried myself to sleep. It was a horrible feeling. Not only was I taking a life, but I was watching a life of someone so small that she didn’t even know what she did wrong. Despite the feeling of warmth and satisfaction I felt within myself for taking the soul, I can never get through their memories without them haunting me.

Memories are worse than ghosts. Ghosts eventually pass on and go somewhere else, but memories? They stay with you forever. Especially at times when you least expect it, like today.