I will remember this conversation till my dying day.
The soft winter sun had faded a while ago and I was walking with a friend.
It was an old street with older houses and strange histories.
My friend pointed at this crumbling wall to my left.
“See that? It is said that on certain nights, you can see a young boy sitting on top, swinging his legs. They say he has no face.”
“Why are child ghosts so terrifying?” I asked.
My friend, he smiled and said.
“Because they are children. Children are not meant to die. They are not supposed to become ghosts.”