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It Struck 3...
Victoria, Age 10, Liverpool, England

This is a extraordinary story. Explaining why I can not look at any clock at  3 pm, on any day.  I can’t even bear to talk about it. It’s horrible.  It makes me feel so strange. I use the word : ‘It’ , not mentioning it- as I’m afraid. It’s a strange story that many will not believe. Although, I suppose it will have to come out some day. So why not now?

I was very ill with something unknown. I was only a baby so I have no idea how I remember the whole story.  However, last night I saw my father again. It reminded me of that time, the time of my life. A time that begun but never ends. Of course, I do like seeing my father, but in some way it’s scary. My spine shivers.

So, do you want to hear it? Of course you do.

It all began, when I was in SouthPark Hospital. I was seriously ill. I can not remember all of the specific details-I hardly remember anything from this part of my journey. But I’ll do my best, consequently, you’ll have to do your best to listen to me.

“Stop! We can’t carry this on! He’s suffering terribly, he might pass out!” I heard the nurse say whilst I was having an operation done.

“Pass out? ”I thought.  “What does that mean?”

“Quickly stop the machine!” Another screamed. I couldn’t see what was happening, as I was put to sleep. Strangely, I could hear them. Was it just my mind?

“This can‘t be happening,” my mother said anxiously.  Vigorously, I was awoken; as I looked around at my new surroundings, I was picked up into my mother's arms, and descended into the comfort and warmth of them. My heart pounded. I looked as if I was sleeping: felt as if I was sleeping; but some how, I wasn’t sleeping.

“Miss,” the nurse stuttered to my mother. It seemed that the operation went a little wrong, you see; as we saved your son, the medication he was given; has a side-effect- your son could be able to see ghosts.”

“Ok, well-” My mother spoke in such shock it made my eyes fill.

“See ghosts,” I thought. “There’s not such thing as them, is there?”

Months went by and I began to realize the nurse was wrong. My mother still cradled me in her arms like I was a delicate diamond, the last on earth.  Until, all of a sudden,  the phone rang, blasting my ears, like lava coming out of a volcano. My mother ran out of the room and quickly answered the phone; it was 3 pm on 3rd of March.

My father walked past, and tended me; I felt as if the sun was right next me, throwing its rays at me. But then he just walked away - he didn’t say anything and I felt so alone. My mother came home crying and I lived until I was five, not knowing who my father was or where he was. Just wondering.

Now I know that on the 3rd of March at 3 pm, my father died in a building accident. It was his ghost I saw. The nurse was correct. I can see ghosts. Which explains why I can’t look at any clock at 3 pm; also why I told this story. Unbelievable really isn’t it? That’s why I don’t tell it. Everyone takes it as a joke. My story seems so much better out than in.

It just shows that you don’t have to listen to the people you tell things to that don’t believe you: just know that you are telling the truth; that’s the only thing that matters.

 
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