A sweating body was the least of my worries.  I had seen him. I had seen her dead son.  Why? What did he want with me? 

I ask myself those questions out of denial. I don't really want to know, because then I would have to face who or what I was. As far back as I can remember, I saw them...the spirits. The ones who were trapped here. 

The old ones say it is a gift.  I say it is a curse...they frighten me. I don't know what they think I can do. I hear them too...the stories they tell...why they are earthbound. The tales are terrifying. I want them to stop.

God, I curse October. The fall winds carry their hollow voices. The colored leaves hold their putrid smell. I can't help them...I won't. 

Some murder, others were murdered.  All want justice, a release from this world, peace. Because I can see them, hear them, they think I am the one to liberate them. I cannot.

Back home...seems so long ago and far away...they wanted me to be trained...My mother and sister wanted this beast within me to be developed.  How could they? Why did they not take me to a holy place, get me exorcised?

Now it acts as a beacon, lighting the way of the damned, leading them to me. The October curse, All Hallows Eve, the day the spirits contact the living. If people could see what I see, they would not celebrate nor honor the walking dead. They would live in fear, like me. 

No one cares. You can see by the glee on their faces when they carve their pumpkins, and leave offerings on the graves. No one cares. I'm alone with my terrors. It has to stop. There is only one way for this to end...