Richard, the nine or ten year old ghost kid, at the moment of his death, regretted being born.
Pablo could understand the sentiment behind it and he had nothing to say.
"Those people killed us just for taking birth in the slums. That's what I regretted. If I wasn't born here, I wouldn't have died."
Richard stopped talking and all the other ghosts patted his back.
Plato also placed his hand on the boy's head.
'Don't make this melodramatic. I hate that shit.'
'Don't you have a heart? At least feel bad for the kid.'
'And what will that do? Me feeling bad won't change things.'
Cupid gave up.
"I am feeling so bad for you, Richard and all of you. I hate those royals myself." Pablo said. He showed his saddest expression.
"It's fine, brother. Don't be sad." Richard replied.
"Richard, can you tell me one more thing?"
"I can."
"Did you guys acquire some power after turning a ghost?" Pablo asked.
