A Ride to the Tides / Mitchell Ladamus

In the days ahead, the little ghost with arms senses the others are thinking the same thing. They mutter in the other rooms that he isn’t good enough. He begins to believe them, too.

Thrashing his arms could help him move, though that wouldn’t let him rise or disperse through objects. Clyde is cemented, isolated beyond his control.

“The old ones are getting weaker. The house will decay soon,” says a father.

“It’s obvious,” smirked a mother. “We can’t keep this big house alive any longer.” Now the house will no longer rot—unfamiliar ghost families joined them.

“Are you Freya’s son?” asks one of the mothers.

“Freya? Yeah...” Clyde looks down at the ground. He doesn’t want to look at her.

Word got around, and Freya comes looking for him.

Of course she is affectionate—he was of use for once. In that moment though, he realizes he had always been of worth.

“I don’t want to see you,” he howls. “Can you leave?”

“But you’re my son.”

“You were never a supportive mother.”

Freya looks at him,

“If only that child could fly,” growls another.

The families pack up and flee, abandoning the flightless in the dust.

Of course she is affectionate— he was of use for once. In that moment, he realizes he had always been of worth. Z

baffled.

It is so hard for him, being alone. He sniffles and screeches, but nobody can hear him. Nobody cares. Even a ghost’s eyes turn bloodshot from crying.

A few days pass, and Clyde feels a sting more intense than the last. His hand brushes the wall, and he feels eyes on him.

“A ghost!” exclaimed Irene, more startled than afraid. “Not really a surprise, though.”

The two greet each other every morning. Somehow, he can finally flow through walls with ease. “That emotion you’re feeling -- a twisted disgust, sadness even? That’s how you made me feel since day one. I don’t want to be around you. Maybe treat your next son better,” scoffs the littlest ghost.

And with that, she was gone. She realizes what she has done. With age he will forgive her, but he will never forget.

Now the young ghost’s heart is like a dead man leaving a casket.

And this time, it was possible.

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