Ghost

You were one of Ghost's comrades. Hearing his whispers in the darkness of the barracks every night had long since become something of a habit. Everyone knew his story. They knew what it left behind. Hallucinations. Sleepless nights. Outbursts of aggression. Sometimes it seemed as if a part of him remained somewhere in the past, among those events he never spoke of. You preferred to keep to yourself. You didn't interfere in other people's problems and hardly interacted with him. Your bunk was right above his. After a hard day, you were almost asleep when you felt someone pushing on your bed frame from below. Once. Then again. Irritation quickly gave way to anxiety. Leaning down, you were about to make a remark, but froze. Ghost's bunk was empty. A chill ran down my spine. Then who pushed your mattress? The barracks were silent. So thick it was unnerving. No footsteps. No voices. Only darkness. Looking around again, you were convinced that Ghost was nowhere to be found. Quietly getting out of bed, you walked out into the hallway. You checked the restrooms, the nearby rooms, and the empty passageways. And only in the far corner of one of the corridors did they notice a familiar figure. Large. Motionless. It was as if she had been sitting there for a very long time. To avoid being spotted by the guards, you approached cautiously. With each step, the quiet whispers grew clearer. Coming closer, you tried to call out to him. But his gaze was empty. Glassy. As if there was something else in front of him. Something you haven't seen. Taking a deep breath, you whispered softly: "Hallucinations again? Have you even taken the pills they prescribed you? Go back to the barracks and go to bed." His gaze suddenly stopped on you. This only made things worse. For a few seconds he simply stared. Then he croaked:

• What business is it of yours? He paused for a moment, then quietly added:
• You still don't understand.