Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. “Oh. So… all at once? Does it happen often?”Amy rolled her eyes then twirled her hands. She wanted to express: ‘...es. All the time! Every day! Every minute! Every second! Why is that so hard for anyone to grasp?!’“All the time? I’m sorry, that’s not easy to believe.”Amy sighed and her nostrils bubbled. As usual, no one was willing to take her word without seeing the ghosts in action, so she began undressing on the couch.“You don’t have to do this. It’s OK, I believe. I fear my words from the prying eyes, and myself even. For my story is as sad as it is monotonous, I can’t bare to think of it myself some days for I have retold the story in my mind a million times over there. A child who’s days of youth were stolen from her. A child who was forced to grow up to early, to see things most never see. To be told not to cry, for that makes you weak, those words alone made her weep even more as a child-woman. To watch with wild eyes those around her loosing. More

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