I want to go. I want to go out. I want to go outside. I want to go outside where the air is free and my soul belongs. I have been kept a prisoner in this box of a house for nine years now. Watching over what is mine. I float through the walls into the little boy's room and observe him playing with his tonka trucks and sucking his thumb. I marvel at the thought of a growing boy and smile as he turns around to grin toothlessly at me.

'Mr!' he squeals, trying to touch me. But as always, his tiny hands slip through me. 'Have you come to play trucks with me?' he asks.

'Of course I have' my deep voice rumbles. The boy scrunches his nose at me before turning his attention to his trucks again.

The door opens. My breath catches in my throat as I turn to see her...As I turn to see her walk through me. I never could understand her. She was mine and when I asked to stay here to watch over her, I ended up dreading her. She never heard me, I thought she would, but she never did.

The boy must've seen my expression of sheer disappointment because he said, 'don't worry, Mr. She'll see you one day'

The woman turned around and stared hard at her son. 'Billy. Be quiet' she snaps.

'Melanie!' I shout. 'Hear me' I whisper. 'Please, hear me. Hear me. Hear me'

'Hear him' Billy says. I drown out both their voices by chanting.

'Hear me. Hear me. Hear me' My skin started glowing. Actually glowing. It had never happened before but I barely noticed as I continued chanting. 'Hear me. Hear me'

A shriek split the noise in half. The woman turned to her son and all Billy said was, 'Hear him'

She saw me. 'What's happening?' she breathed.

I take a deep breath, praying that I wasn't dreaming. 'Hear me'

She heard me.