In the cabinet and the ceiling boards.

There's a ghost in the medical centre, no doubts about that. Its not a banshee, ghoulish kind of ghost. He's a poltergeist, and a he. There aren't many she-poltergeists around. He's the one who messes up the dockets, the one who makes drugs go missing. He is the one that sends his phantoms to report sick while the doctor isn't in and he's the one who rings up the medical centre in the dead of the night. He makes the air conditioners leak and the rations to be never enough. And that's just listing a few.

Without being seen, he's able to relate and touch all of us, hypnotizing us to sleep, calling from the back of our heads to ask us to play flash games that with our usual selves, we would not even take a look. Not with the myriads of other forms of entertainment available. He asks us to take a break in the busiest hour, to go to the canteen or to blend in as a sickbay patient; to hide in the pantry or behind the cupboards. And sometimes, we don't even feel him. We do not acknowledge his existence, preferring to attribute those actions to our slackness and our unwillingness to be here. Which leads to complaining about the system, the country, the government, our birthplace, our lives, our existence... And sometimes you just wonder, if all this was too part of his plans, and you ask questions about his existence, Is he here? When is he here? Why is he here? And as you ask, he slowly vanishes and fades into the surroundings, and you wouldn't feel him and the need to understand his existence anymore. And you go on with your days and your troubles and your attempts to slack. Not knowing, No. Never knowing that he, the ghost of the medical centre, is behind everything.

There's a ghost in the medical center, and he's here, in the cabinets and the ceiling boards.


-Was inspired by The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman and thus wrote a short story bout the ghost of the medical centre. haha. part 1 of my would be short story collections named as my title for this post.