You are walking. The ground is hard. It is cold. You are looking for a door. There is no door. There is only the wall. The wall is gray. It is old. It is wet.

You have a map. The map is wet. The ink is running. You cannot read it. You throw the map away. The paper floats. It lands in the mud. You do not care. You keep walking.

You are a hunter. You hunt ghosts. You have hunted them for years. You are good at it. You are too good at it. It is a flaw. Or a gift. You do not know anymore.

The rain starts. It is light. It is cold. It feels like needles. You pull your coat tighter. The coat is heavy. It smells of smoke. It smells of you.

You see a light. It is far away. It is yellow. It is steady. It is not a fire. Fire flickers. This does not flicker. It is a star. But stars are up. This is down.

You walk toward it. Your legs are tired. Your heart is fast. You are afraid. You should not be afraid. You are the hunter. The prey is the ghost. You are the hunter.

The light gets closer. It is a window. A small window. In a stone house. The house is ruined. The roof is gone. The walls are cracked. It is a ruin. It has been a ruin for a long time.

You stop. You look at the window. The light is still there. It is warm. It is inviting. It is a lie. You know it is a lie. You walk closer anyway.

You see a figure. It is sitting. It is back to you. It is wearing a coat. A gray coat. Like yours. You recognize the coat. You know the coat. It is your coat. No, it is not. It is like your coat. It is your mirror.

You stop. Your breath fogs. The cold is deep. The cold is in your bones. You want to turn back. You want to run. Your feet do not move. They are stuck. The mud has taken you.

The figure turns. It is a woman. She is young. She is old. She is both. Her face is pale. Her eyes are dark. She looks at you. She does not speak. She smiles. It is a sad smile. It is a knowing smile.

You know her. You do not know her. You know her from a dream. You know her from a book. You know her from a life you did not live.

She is your friend. No, she is not. She is your shadow. She is the part of you that you cut off. She is the part of you that stayed.

The rain stops. The air is still. The silence is loud. It is a heavy silence. It presses against your ears. It presses against your mind.

You step forward. One step. Two steps. You are close. You can see her hands. They are clasped. They are tight. They are trembling.

You see the door. It is behind her. It is open. The light is spilling out. It is blinding. It is white. It is pure.

You want to go in. You want to sit with her. You want to rest. You have walked so long. You are so tired. You are so hungry. You are so thirsty.

You do not go in. You stop. You look at her. You look at the door. You look at the wall.

The wall is not a wall. It is a boundary. It is a line. It is a rule. It is a law.

You cannot cross. You know this. You have always known this. You just forgot.

The figure stands up. She moves toward you. She is silent. Her feet do not make a sound. She is a ghost. She is real. She is you.

She stops in front of you. She is close. You can see her eyes. They are your eyes. They are tired. They are sad. They are brave.

She reaches out. Her hand is cold. It is dry. She touches your cheek. It feels like ice. It feels like fire.

She speaks. Her voice is low. It is soft. It is clear.

She says nothing.

She says everything.

You understand. You do not understand. You feel it. It is in your chest. It is in your blood. It is in your soul.

You are not the hunter. You are the prey. You have been the prey all along. You thought you were chasing. You were being chased.

The figure fades. She is becoming mist. She is becoming air. She is becoming nothing.

The door closes. The light goes out. The darkness returns. The darkness is total. The darkness is absolute.

You are alone. You are always alone. You are never alone.

You turn around. You face the wall. The wall is solid. The wall is immovable. The wall is the end.

You walk back. You walk into the dark. You walk into the rain. You walk into the night.

You do not look back. You cannot look back.

You are walking. The ground is hard. It is cold. You are looking for a door. There is no door. There is only the wall.

The wall is gray. It is old. It is wet.

You are the wall.

***

You remember now. The name. Eleanor.

It is not a ghost. It is a memory. A memory that has weight. A memory that has teeth.

You were friends. You were young. You were in the war. Or near the war. The details are blurry. The edges are soft. The center is sharp.

You were walking in the field. The field was green. The sky was blue. You were laughing. She was laughing.

You saw the bird. It was a hawk. It was high. It was free.

You said, I want to be that. She said, I want to stay here.

You left. You left her. You left the field. You left the peace. You left the love.

You chose the hunt. You chose the danger. You chose the self.

You have been running ever since. Running from her. Running from the choice. Running from the peace.

The ghost is not haunting you. The choice is haunting you.

The boundary is not external. It is internal. It is the line between who you were and who you are.

You cannot cross back. You cannot be the boy in the field. You cannot be the friend in the light.

You are the detective. You are the one who knows. You are the one who pays.

The price is the silence. The price is the solitude. The price is the cold.

You accept it. You do not fight it. You do not conquer it. You let it be.

You let it be.

The rain starts again. It is heavier. It is louder. It washes the mud. It washes the blood. It washes the guilt.

You keep walking. You do not stop. You do not look down. You look up.

The sky is dark. The stars are out. They are far. They are bright. They are cold.

You are one of them. You are a star. You are distant. You are alone. You are bright.

You are free.

The freedom is terrible. The freedom is sweet. The freedom is yours.

You walk on. The road is long. The road is straight. The road is yours.

You do not need the door. You do not need the friend. You do not need the past.

You have the now. You have the air. You have the step.

The step is steady. The step is sure.

You are here. You are alive. You are real.

The wall is behind you. The wall is inside you. The wall is gone.

You are open. You are wide. You are the sky.

The rain stops. The air is clear. The air is crisp.

You breathe. You breathe deep. You breathe life.

The life is yours. The life is free. The life is now.

You smile. It is a small smile. It is a real smile. It is a sad smile. It is a happy smile.

You are happy. You are sad. You are both.

You walk on. The sun is coming. The sun is warm. The sun is gold.

You feel it on your face. You feel it on your skin. You feel it in your heart.

It is good. It is enough. It is all you need.

You are enough.

You are free.

The story ends. The story begins. The story is you.

You are the light. You are the dark. You are the wall. You are the door.

You are the ghost. You are the hunter. You are the prey.

You are the truth.

The truth is simple. The truth is hard. The truth is free.

You let go. You let go. You let go.

The weight is gone. The pain is gone. The fear is gone.

You are light. You are air. You are dust.

You are nothing. You are everything.

You are here.

You are now.

You are free.

The wind blows. The leaves fall. The earth turns. The stars turn.

You turn. You turn. You turn.

You are gone. You are here. You are gone.

The silence is loud. The silence is deep. The silence is full.

It is full of you. It is full of her. It is full of us.

It is full of love. It is full of loss. It is full of life.

It is full of the truth.

The truth is free. The truth is kind. The truth is kind.

You are kind. You are kind. You are kind.

The end. The end. The end.

You are here. You are here. You are here.