The Ghosts That Stayed
Not all ghosts were meant to be feared. Some stayed behind to remind you. Jaylen sat on the front steps of his childhood home. It was condemned now—windows boarded, weeds taller than his knees—but he had the keys. The city had planned to demolish it, but he asked for one more week. Just to sit. Just to remember. The wind rustled through the alley behind the house, the same one where he and Jax used to run, playing stickball with broom handles. He could still hear the echo of his mom's voice calling them in before the streetlights buzzed on. But not all the memories were sweet. In the cracked sidewalk just feet away, Jax had bled out after a drive-by. No last words. No mercy. Jaylen was only fifteen. He closed his eyes. Jax was still with him—in the caution he carried, the fire he sp
- Writer
