People said that a little girl committed suicide in my house. They think her spirit lived and haunted our house, lurking the halls and morning her own death, but they were wrong. The girl didn’t haunt my house; she just haunted my room.

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Shadows filled my room as twilight settled in and no light dared to enter though. Not the stars’ gentle gleam, not the bright moon’s glow, not the flicking lampposts on the street. Only darkness roamed my room and a pearly white little girl. I crouched down behind the bed, waiting for the ghost. She came at the same place every night, behind a translucent closet door in my room. Just a few minutes before midnight, she’d press her head against the door and gaze out at me as I slept. Just watched me sleep, like a nine-year old dead stalker. I felt her cold glaze upon me every night. I never ran, never screamed, because I knew she wouldn’t hurt me; in fact, I almost felt safer with her around. Almost like a spirit there to protect me. I hated to think the girl as a demon or ghost just because she looked like one.
Tonight, I planned on going up to the door to get a closer look at the apparition; but, I just wished I brought my big brother Michael with me. However, I think he would pee himself to death at the sight of a ghost.
I felt a sudden shiver down my spine and a wisp of frozen breeze on my skin that brought my attention to the closet door. Pressing against the door laid a small silver hand; nothing more. I felt my breath grew heavier.
I took a deep breath, demolishing the last bit of my nerves. I got up and slowly walked toward the closet door. As I came in front of the bed, only a few feet from the closet, I noticed my hands shaking and my heart already racing. My heartbeat pounded loudly with every trebling footfall. I attempted not to hold my breath, but it became harder with every step. Why didn’t I make Michael come with me?
When I reached the door, my arm lifted up slowly without me even thinking and I juxtaposed my hand on top of the transparent glowing hand pressed against the door. Surprisingly, My hand felt an intense icy and numb cold on the glass, making my hand turn pale as if dumped in a snow pile for an hour. Another transparent hand appeared on the door. My free hand matched up to the other ghost hand and I once again felt the cold under my palm. Slowly breathing, I tried to maintain my body warmth in my hands and waited for something to happen. For a moment, I believed nothing more would happen; however, a shadow of a pearly white face appeared and steadily pressed against the door and I found two empty black eyes staring at me.
Resembling any other girl her age, only colorless and lightly glowing, the ghost girl held a soft expression, slightly doleful and bored, on her round face. She had faded hair the draped past where I could see, a flawless face that looked perfect, and dull grey eyes that stared blankly into mine. I presumed her face and hair used to explode with color, but now the color shall be lost forever. Moments past and all we did was stare deep into each other’s eyes. Then she closed her eyes, and I suddenly felt a piercing pain of betrayal, a confusing depth of obscure hated thoughts, but worst of all, a darkness of unforgiving and everlasting loneliness that stabbed my heart with dying pain. And I knew, just by looking at the girl, that those emotions flooded her before her dying breath, and still now as a lost spirit.
Tears streamed from my eyes and I discovered myself sobbing for her. I felt the same as her. Lost. Angry. Confused. Alone. All described my feelings and me. I understood. “You feel…lost and alone,“ I began to blurt out to the girl in a low voice, “Alice?” The girl nodded in reply. I said her as if I already knew we knew each other, despite the fact I didn’t. The name just popped in my mind, like her feelings. I continued with thoughts just flying out of my head,“ I feel the same…the kids bully me every day and I really don’t have many friends. I always feel lost and alone, like no one cares about me. But I know I’m wrong. There must be some one who loves me right?” I meet the black eyes of Alice and she just stares. “Y-You know, I don’t think you belong here,” I paused, unsure I knew where I was getting at, “You belong in heaven.” Alice didn’t nod, just stared. And for the first time, I heard her speak.
“No, I can’t,” her soft voice echoed in uneven sharp pitches. Gazing at her eyes, I noticed deep fear.
“Alice, I don’t know you, but I know people up there miss you, ones that you didn’t even thought loved you… Sometimes— sometimes, you may feel unloved and alone, but your not,” I realized that I talked more about myself and my problems and I gathered my thoughts towards the ghosts problems, “You have nothing to fear up in heaven, no one will hurt you. Your pain will go away. You need to… you need to spread your wings and fly!” I almost felt like I knew what I was talking about.
Stepping back a foot from the door, I held out my hand, waiting for her to come out from hiding in the closet in dark depression and face her new beginning. A foggy hand seeped though the glass and took my hand. Her hand shone brighter than before as soon as her hand touched mine. The hazy grey hand warmed in my hands and grew in soft peachy tan pigments. An arm, shoulder head and body found a way out though the door, at first displaying a sliver transparency, to a solid warm color. I gasped as a new being took form. The girl before me smiled golden happiness with red beautiful lips and rosy cheeks. Her hair simmered soft golden waves and her eyes reminded me of soothing seas of pure diamonds. A vibrant white dress draped down from her shoulders to her feet and wings of brilliant bird feathers sprang from her back, glimmering pure white light that lit my whole room. My mouth hit the floor in awe. She no longer resembled a ghost, but an angel.
“Thank You, Dawn,” Her voice sang softly with angelic melodies, so stunning and enhanced than before. Her appearance and voice differed from anything on earth. Smiling gracefully, she held out her hand and placed something fluffy and soft in my hand, a black feather. I brought the feather to my face to examine the beauty, and before my eyes the feather turned pure white with sparkling streaks of blue, the same shade as her eyes. I compared the feather to Alice; the feather and her seemed to be one. Alice beamed one last time, and then she started to rise into the air, the light started to fade and so did she. I wanted to stop her, talk to her longer and interrogate her about the feather, yet I didn’t. I just watched in astonishment. As the last bit of light flicked from Alice, her voice echoed in my room, “As long as that feather in your hands shines white of protecting wings and blue of guiding eyes, I shall always be with you.” And she vanished. Now, I only stood in the room, no longer in darkness. Light shone though the windows from the stars, the moon and the street lamps, the light that felt of Alice’s.

From the start, the ghost named Alice watched me from the closet. Now, she watches me from the heavens. We held no history, no memories, yet she still decided to protect me, as I was a long lost friend. I know Alice still protects me with her shielding white wings, I know she still watches me with her guiding blue eyes, and I know because the feather still shines white with blue streaks.