When I was younger I lived in a really big house with my mom, and it was a really nice house. Some people thought the houses beside it were , but I wasn't the type of person to believe something like ghosts. But I do now, and here's why... One night when I was about seventeen I was home alone, and was watcjing TV, when my grandma walked in the house. I had never really gotten along with her, not because we fought, but because I had never really gotten to know her, and it had really surprised me when she walked in. I stood up to greet her, and she embraced me in a really big hug. I just stood there feeling stupid. When she pulled away, she had tears in her eyes. You are so beautiful. I didn't know what to say, so I just stood there. I'm really sorry I wasn't there when you were growing up. I really am, and I hope you can find it in your heart to
forgive your old grandma. I really do love you. I remember every word that we both said, because it broke my heart. When she said those words I started crying.
For the next four hours we laughed, and cried and I cried even harder when she said that she had to go. I hugged her, and walked her outside. A little while later, my mom came home crying. I rushed over to her afraid that she was hurt. She said that she was fine, but my grandma had died five hours earlier, and that she had been too busy to call and tell me. That night as I went to bed, I prayed and thanked God that I had gotten to know my grandma, even if it was just her spirit.
I know this doesn't sound true, but it is, and I now belive in ghosts, or as I call them-spirits, and you should believe too.