Dear ghost,
There was a door with a promise of haunting ghost. There was three of it and as we crossed each, our age withered with the plants in it. The last door with its iron bar, warned all who dare to cross it. It said, " this is the valley of dead. If you are human, be warned of death that calls." Yet those ghost has managed to snatch the beloved child. The sweet child that gave us flowers. The ones I entered the ominous door with, was the one I gave my loyalty to. Yet I was just respected and never loved. Yet with a bow in my hand, I fought for the honor and the child. When all was done and won, I saw their withered stature. They feigned their dementia and chased us away from the land of death. But I still remember their eyes under their silver hair, begging us to take them with us. But they knew, we couldn't. It was those eyes I remembered even as I opened my eyes.
Yours