A Reunion After Seven Years

Ronwa sat on her bed, then took a deep breath. When her eyes returned to the book, her heart began to pound fiercely in her chest. The sadness had started to dissipate a little, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking again about her grandmother.

"That old woman..." she whispered, then muttered a curse under her breath, filled with anger. Her tongue had slipped out of control in that moment when she exploded, under the weight of frustration and exhaustion.

In that moment, suddenly, the lantern candle went out without warning. Her eyes froze for a moment, then she looked at the lantern whose light was fading, as if it suddenly went out in the dark, as if something strange had happened.

She was shocked, and fear gripped her. Her body trembled as she tried to relight the candle again. She quickly got up from the bed, but her foot suddenly tripped on the blanket, and the cover slipped, causing Ronwa to fall hard onto the floor.

She quickly raised her head, her eyes sparkling in the darkness, trying to comprehend what had happened. But what completely surprised her was what she saw in front of her...

There was a boy crouching on the floor in front of her. He looked very much like her, but instead of having silver hair, he had pale gray hair, and his body seemed faded like a lost shadow in the night. His features were strikingly similar to hers, but there was something strange about his presence, something unnatural.

He looked at her with that indifferent gaze, and said in an unexpectedly calm tone:

"How long do you plan on lying on the floor?"

Ronwa was startled, her limbs trembling in a moment of shock. She had no idea what was happening. She quickly stood up, trying to escape from this strange creature that looked like her, but she retreated quickly.

In her retreat, she hit her head on the edge of the bed hard, feeling a sharp pain in her head that made her sigh heavily. Her tears were on the verge of falling, but fear took over her more.

The strange look in the boy's eyes made her heart race faster, she couldn't believe what she had seen, but what was clear was that this being... was not human like her.

She placed her small hands on her head, where she had hit the bed's edge. Her tears gathered in her eyes, dancing with the light of the extinguished lantern, and she couldn't tell whether they were tears of fear, pain, or both.

In a trembling voice, her features frozen in shock, she whispered:

"Wh... Who are you?"

The boy didn't move, showing no emotion, just continued to look at her with that strange calmness, and said in a soft tone:

"I am... a ghost."

Her eyes widened, and her blood froze in her veins. She couldn’t believe what she had heard, as if her mind completely rejected the idea. But fear overwhelmed her and pushed her to react in the natural first way: to attack.

She quickly got up and bent down to grab her old book — her beloved book — but in that moment, she didn't think of it as a treasure, but as a weapon.

"Get out of my room, you thief!" she shouted, throwing the book at him with force.

But… it passed through his body as if he were air.

Her eyes recoiled, and her throat dried up. A small scream involuntarily escaped her, then she turned to the lantern. She grabbed it with all her childlike strength, then hurled it at him in panic, but it too… passed through him like smoke.

She was trembling, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her breath shallow, and her hands shaking violently.

The ghost was still sitting, the same way, as if what had happened meant nothing to him.

He said quietly, as if he hadn't received a lantern or a book at all:

"Are you done screaming now?"

Ronwa sat on the floor, her hands still trembling slightly, but curiosity started to creep in between the fear in her eyes. She couldn't understand, and nothing about it reassured her, but she asked in a soft voice, almost a whisper:

"You... are a ghost? Really?"

The boy stood up, brushed his hands off in slight nervousness, and then said with impatience:

"Yes, that's obvious. My body is transparent, isn't it?"

Ronwa blinked, then stared at him for a long time, as if her mind was still trying to comprehend what she was seeing. He was truly transparent, as if light passed through him. Then she furrowed her brows and asked him sharply in a childlike tone:

"If you're a ghost… what are you doing in my room?"

He looked at her with surprise, as if he were the one shocked by her question, then pointed to the ground around him and said with confidence:

"This is my room."

Ronwa gasped and raised her voice a little:

"This is not true! This is my room, since I was little!"

But the boy showed no sign of being affected, instead, he said with the same strange calmness:

"It's my mother's room. And that means... it's my room too."

Ronwa's heart trembled for a moment, and she stared at him in shock, as if his words had sparked a chain of questions and possibilities in her head. She whispered in astonishment, her eyes widening:

"Your… mother's room? What... do you mean by that?"

The ghost sighed, his breath not as clear as a human's, but more like a part of the wind.

"This is what I will explain... but you need to stop throwing things first."

The ghost began to float around the room, his hands passing over things without touching them. He fiddled a little with a small doll on the shelf, then stopped at a small wooden chair, bending down to examine a book lying on the floor. Ronwa watched him silently, her eyes not leaving him, as if she feared he would disappear if she blinked.

He spoke calmly, without looking at her:

"You have a twin... don't you?"

Ronwa felt her heart pound hard. She hesitated a little, then nodded slowly and whispered:

"Yes... Mama told me."

He continued, as if confirming something:

"And... he died when you were born, right?"

Her heart rate increased. She stared at him in astonishment, but nodded again, this time more slowly, as if she feared hearing what he would say next.

At that moment, he lightly walked to the edge of the window and sat on it. The moon behind him cast a strange silver glow on his faint body.

Ronwa looked at him in astonishment, her breath barely audible. Then he turned to her, his eyes containing something strange... something that resembled her.

He smiled a small, confident smile and said calmly:

"I am... Ron. Your twin who died."

Ronwa froze in place, her eyes widening further, her mouth slightly open without uttering a word. She felt a cold sensation run down her spine, as if the world had paused for a moment.

She finally whispered, her voice trembling:

"My... twin?"

He shook his head, Ron confirming with a small smile:

"Yes, I am."

But she immediately shook her head firmly, got up from the floor, and screamed:

"No! This is impossible! You're lying! This... this is a silly dream! I'm asleep, and I'll wake up now!"

She began to pace around the room, gently slapping her cheeks, looking around, searching for something to prove she was dreaming.

But he remained sitting on the edge of the window, unmoved, unangered, just looking at her with the same calmness.

He said:

"You’re trying to escape the truth, Ronwa. I understand. But running away won’t make me disappear."

She stopped, then looked at him tensely and whispered:

"But… how? How are you here?"

He looked at the sky outside the window, then said:

"When I died, I didn’t leave like the other spirits. A part of me stayed here, stuck between the human world... and the world of ghosts. I am neither alive, nor fully dead."

Ronwa shuddered, swallowed hard, then said in a faint voice:

"But... ghosts aren’t real... they're just stories... like the ones in books..."

Ron smiled quietly, then looked at the doll on the shelf and said:

"Do you want proof?"

He moved his finger toward a small doll with a blue dress — it was on a shelf that Ronwa couldn’t reach from where she was — and it slowly slid, as if something invisible moved it, and fell softly to the ground in front of her feet.

Ronwa stared at the doll, her mouth agape, then slowly raised her eyes to him.

He whispered:

"Is this enough?"

Ronwa stared at the fallen doll in front of her, her brows furrowed and her lips trembling. She whispered without lifting her eyes:

"Maybe... maybe it’s just the wind..."

Ron smiled, a small smile as if to say: "I knew you'd say that."

He jumped lightly from the window and stood in the middle of the room. He looked at her with his eyes glowing faintly, then said:

"Then... I will show you something your mind cannot deny."

He extended his right hand toward his chest. His fingers gradually disappeared into his transparent body... then he pulled out something small, glowing with a faint blue light.

It was... a key.

But it wasn’t an ordinary key, it seemed as if it was made of living light, changing color between blue and silver, and emitting a soft hum like whispers that couldn’t be understood.

Ronwa approached him, knelt in front of him, and he raised the key with his hand:

"This is my key... the first of the seven ghost keys."

Ronwa gasped, looking at the key as if she were seeing something from the stories she used to hear before sleep… stories she hadn’t believed in for a long time.

He continued, his gaze fixed on her:

"Humans can’t see this key... unless they have a connection to the world of ghosts."

Then he approached, took her small hand, and placed the key in it.

Ronwa felt a faint warmth spread through her body, as if a strange warmth had suddenly entered her heart, along with thousands of faint whispers calling her name.

She shuddered, and raised her eyes to him, her tears hanging on her lashes.

"I... I can touch it..."

He smiled:

"And you're the only one who can."