The ghost's laughter rang out, light and mocking. "Tired? Or simply realizing your own limitations? You've been running away from the truth, but you can't run forever."
Ethan felt the weight of the ghost's words settle heavily on his chest. "You're right. I'm not strong enough for this. I thought I could fight it, ignore it, maybe it could just go away, but I'm just... weak. I can't keep pretending I'm okay when I'm not." He looked up, meeting the ghost's gaze, feeling exposed. "What do you want from me? Why are you here?"
"Ah, now we're getting somewhere," the ghost replied, its tone shifting to something more serious. "It's not about what I want. It's about what you need to confront. You've been living in fear, and it's time to face it. You should be grateful Ethan, you have no idea how brittle the bubble you've been living in is. I'm going to bring you out of that bubble"
Ethan felt a flicker of defiance rise within him, but it was quickly extinguished by the weight of his own despair. "I don't know if I can," he admitted, his voice trembling. "I'm not brave like you think. I'm just trying to survive."
"Survival is a challenge in itself," the ghost said, its voice softening a little. "But you have the power to change your fate. You just need to stop running."
Ethan closed his eyes, feeling the gravity of the ghost's words. Maybe it was time to stop hiding, to confront the darkness that had taken root in his life. But the thought was daunting, and he felt more lost than ever.
The room felt heavy with unspoken words as Ethan sat on the edge of his bed, the ghost hovering nearby, its presence both familiar and unsettling. After a long silence, Ethan finally found the courage to voice the question that had been gnawing at him. "Why me? Why couldn't you find someone else? Someone else who could do a better job at helping you?"
The ghost sighed, a sound filled with a deep, lingering sadness. "I didn't have a choice in that matter," it replied. "When I first materialized, I was acting purely on emotions—fear, anger, desperation. I didn't think about who would be the best fit. I just reached out, and you were there."
Ethan felt a pang of frustration mixed with sorrow. "But maybe things would have been different if I wasn't there when you died. If you had chosen someone else, someone who could actually handle this."
The ghost's form flickered slightly. "Perhaps," it admitted, its tone laden with regret. "But the truth is, there's nothing I can do about my host. You were the one who was there, the one who felt my pain. I didn't choose you because you were strong; I chose you because you were present. That's all there was to it."
Ethan let out a hollow chuckle, the sound tinged with sadness. "So, I'm just the guy who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, huh? That's comforting," he said, shaking his head. "I guess that's just my luck."
The ghost just watched him, it knew what it was asking for was too much from the kid, but it was the only option it had. "It's not about luck, Ethan. It's about what you choose to do with this situation."