Even the dead tell stories, they’d say.

It’d be wise to listen.

They tell you of all the things that go bump in the night.

Now the ghosts and ghouls may lie, but their lessons are invaluable .

If you pay attention you might just learn something new.

At least that’s what I’ve been told.

Not that anyone listens to _me._

__

I’m just the guy that believes those legends.

I mean, why wouldn’t I?

The soft ghostly whispers and the cold air surround me in my sleep.

They talk and I listen.

They’re the reason I’m alive after all.

I learn from my mistakes and I learn from theirs.

They may be liars but I haven’t died.

I haven’t lost it.

(_Not_ y_et._)

Not like the people that once surrounded me.

How could I not listen when the proof of what happens when you don’t is right in front of me?

Their stories are warnings.

I’m not inclined to ignore them.