The doctors told the amputee he might experience a phantom limb from time to time. Nobody prepared him for the moments though, when he felt cold fingers brush across his phantom hand.
I can't move, breathe, speak or hear and it's so dark all the time. If I knew it would be this lonely, I would have been cremated instead.
I woke up to hear knocking on glass. At first, I though it was the window until I heard it come from the mirror again.
Yesterday my parents told me I was too old for an imaginary friend and that I had to let her go. They found her body this morning.
My daughter won't stop crying and screaming in the middle of the night. I visit her grave and ask her to stop, but it doesn't help.