Three middle-aged people were sitting in the library. They were telling ghost stories to each other, trying to outdo each other. A forlorn-looking child was also sitting there but no one was paying any attention to him. The first one narrated a story of a woman who died when her lover didn’t turn up in the church for their wedding. She waited for hours, all dressed up as a bride, only to realize that he never intended to come in the first place. She ran all the way to a nearby cliff and jumped down. She still haunts the church and many people have seen a lady running all the way to the cliff, dressed as a bride. Many tried to run after her to save her too but they could never stop her from jumping. Then, naturally, there was no dead body to be found.

The boy was aghast and wild-eyed. These people seem to have no sense of age-appropriateness and what could such stories do the child’s mind. Second one told a more ghastly tale of a mother who was buried with her child. She appeared everyday to the milkman and used to snatch a bottle from him and run towards the cemetery. Third day, the milkman ran after her, only to find that she disappeared in a particular grave. He could also hear cries of baby from the grave. He was terrified. He ran back and brought more people with him. When they dug the grave, they found that the child was alive and the dead mother had a half-empty bottle in her hands with the nipple in baby’s mouth.

The boy was very agitated by now. He stood up and started pacing the room. He could not hear more. Before the third man could open his mouth, he suddenly lurched towards the three men and tried to shake them to sense and not talk about such fearful things. But his hands just passed through their bodies. He turned and tried to touch each other things but he kept passing through them. It was then he realized that he was not some made-up story of these three old-aged men. He was a ghost, a very lonely ghost.