My Daughter and the Blinkie Ghost
Opening Scene: The Gift
Some kids see dead people. My daughter? She just sees everything—like, she could spot a spider on the ceiling from three rooms away, or the last cookie I tried to hide behind the flour. But it's not just cookies and spiders. Ever since she was little, she's had a knack for seeing "the other side." Or, as she puts it, "the people who don't blink right."
It's not like she talks to them much. She just sees them. And sometimes, that's enough to make your skin crawl.
The Blinkie Ghost Arrives
It started at her dad's house. Every time she visited, she'd come back with a new story.
"Mom, the blinkie ghost was there again," she'd say, eyes wide, "and it got reeeeally close to my face. Like, nose-hair close. Then it just… blinked. Once. And poof, gone."
"Did it say anything?" I'd ask, pretending to be casual while clutching my coffee like a life preserver.
"Nope. Just blinked. And then it was gone. I think it's shy."
That blink was like a warning. Like the ghost was saying, "Hey, don't blink or you'll miss me." Creepy, right? But also kind of hilarious, because who blinks just once and then disappears? That's like ghost etiquette or something.
The Imaginary Friend Files
Now, my daughter's had her share of imaginary friends. There was Lily—her own name, which should've been a red flag, but I was a first-time mom. Lily the friend was obsessed with seatbelts.
"Buckle up, Lily!" my daughter would say, "We don't want to be ghost pancakes!"
One day, she came to me, serious as a judge. "Mom, Lily and I got into a fight. She made fun of my coat and left."
I thought, "Okay, maybe she's outgrowing imaginary friends." But five minutes later, she's staring out the window.
"Oh, Lily's back. She brought her parents. Their house burned down, so they're staying in the field."
I considered moving. Immediately.
Babysitter Massacre: Louisiana Edition
But nothing—nothing—compares to what happened in Louisiana. I went through six babysitters in three months. Six.
It always started the same way: my daughter, playing quietly with her toys, sweet as pie. Then, out of nowhere, she'd freeze. Her face would go blank, eyes wide and unblinking. She'd stand up, slow as a zombie in a bad horror movie, and walk—no, glide—across the room.
She'd stop right in front of the babysitter, look them dead in the eye, and whisper, in a voice straight out of The Exorcist:
"You're going to die soon."
Cue the babysitter sprinting out the door, never to be seen again. I started leaving a tip jar by the door labeled "For Therapy."
Honestly, I love her.
The Ghostly Social Life
It wasn't just at her dad's. Relatives started calling, saying she was scaring their kids.
"She told Audrey a ghost had its hand on her shoulder," my sister whispered, like she was reporting a crime.
"Don't worry," I said, "Ghosts aren't scary. They're just… blinkie."
But the blinkie ghost wasn't just a one-time thing. It seemed to follow her around, especially when she was at places connected to her dad's side of the family. The blink was always there, like a blinking cursor waiting for her to type a message she couldn't read.
Family Drama (and Ghostly Warnings)
Here's the thing: The blinkie ghost only showed up at her dad's house. Coincidence? I think not.
Her brother, who had Opinions about her being bi until he got his own girlfriend, was no help. He was too busy deleting his browser history after his stepmom caught him "researching" things.
"Let me show you how to really delete it," I told him. "And tell your sister, too. Ghosts might be watching."
It's funny how family drama mixes with ghost drama. Like, one minute you're dealing with teenage angst, the next you're explaining to your kid why a ghost with no name is blinking at her like she's the star of a horror movie.
The Final Blink
One night, my daughter came to me, serious as ever.
"Mom, I think the blinkie ghost is trying to warn me."
"About what?"
She leaned in, whispering, "Don't blink. Like, literally. You never know what you'll miss. Or what'll get you."
I laughed, but I slept with the lights on anyway.
Epilogue: Lessons Learned
Ghosts are weird.
Kids are weirder.
Babysitters are braver than we give them credit for.
Family is the weirdest of all.
And if you ever see a blinkie ghost, just blink back. Maybe it just wants to play.
THE END