Lighthouse

I've heard the legends. The myths about the girl that died here, in the old abandoned lighthouse. As always, they say you can her her ghost at night, or when you're all alone. They say you can't see her if you're looking for her.

People have claimed to see her. Maybe they lied, maybe it was a trick of the light, maybe they're crazy. Maybe I'm crazy.

Maybe it's a waste of time to sit here day after day, hoping for an encounter.

Maybe its a waste of time to sit here and ponder the universe while waiting to find the girl who saved my life.
I'm not crazy. I hope.

When I was little I almost drowned on these rocks.

Or off the rocks I suppose.

It was the day my family decided to take a trip to the beach,

It was the day my six year-old mind couldn't take anymore of the petty bickering between my parents.

It was the day I lost my footing and slipped into the icy waves, where the icy, skin-numbing water engulfed my body. 
I wasn't under for too long before my head hit something sharp and everything went black.

The next thing I remembered was feeling the warm sand under my touch, and seeing the face of a young girl standing over me with a concerned expression on her face. 

I attempted to sit up, but I couldn't get my body to move. I was most likely in shock.

In the background, I heard faint voices. Two of which I recognized as my parents. I turned to look at them, then turned back to the girl, who had suddenly disappeared.

After that I remember my mother picking me up in her arms, sobbing, and a crowed of people standing around me.

I never saw the girl after that, but I was convinced she had saved my life. I had heard the legends as a young boy, about the old haunted lighthouse. It was said that the ghost of a young girl resided there, waiting for her lost love, or some cliché like that.

Ever since I was little, I had daydreams about meeting this girl, this ghost, and thanking her for saving me life. Though usually they branched out into some crazy storyline fantasy. She wasn't always a ghost though. As I got older, I began to rationalize with myself, and dream about meeting a real girl, the one who had saved my life, and thanking her. Then some sort of long storyline fantasy after that.
Day after day I've sat outside this old lighthouse, not in hope of finding her, but because its a peaceful place where I can escape from the troubles of every day home life. My fantasies, I'm sure, will only stay in my head. I'm not naïve enough to seriously think that she'll just come waltzing up (or floating. It depends on my mood.) and things will go down as planned out in my head. But a I can dream can't I? Its just a hopeless fantasy. Most of these fantasies contain story lines that you'd expect to find in some B-list movie sitting on a shelf, covered in dust, in an old video rental store.

This spot on the beach is fairly isolated. Not many people come here, so it really is a nice place to get away., but that's why I was surprised to hear voices off I the distance. The sound of people approaching. For some reason that I can't think to rationalize, I felt the need to hide. Maybe it was because I didn't want to be bothered in the moment, maybe it was because I didn't want to face or talk to anyone, or maybe it was just a knee jerk reaction. Either way, I jumped up and hid behind a pile of rocks.

The couple approached, walking hand in hand, jumping across the rocks. There was something familiar about the woman that I couldn't place my finger on. I continued watching them from my hiding spot, hoping for them to leave. Through the quietness of the calm waves, I heard them speak, shouting over the sound of the ocean.

“This is where it happened.” the woman said. “when I was little, this is where I pulled the boy out of the water.” My eyes widened. The man just nodded.

Was this really happening? It had to be a coincidence. It just had to be. Maybe I should confront the woman, ask her for her story.

Then hope its similar to mine.

I emerged from behind the rocks, confident in my decision. I walked over to the couple and neither one of them seemed to notice me.

“Excuse me, ma'am?” I spoke up. She still didn't seem to hear me. I walked closer, speaking up again. “Excuse me?” I said, stumbling over the rocks.

Still, not a response from either of them.

I finally got close enough to put my hand on her shoulder, in hope of getting her attention. I did so, and still no response.

“Excuse me, ma'am?” I said giving her shoulder the slightest shake. She didn't respond. I began to get annoyed. Was she ignoring me, or did she honestly not notice my presence? I stepped in front of her, and placed my hands on either side of her shoulder, facing her, and looking her directly in the face. She continued to stare off into the distance, only it was if she was looking directly through me.

“By the time I pulled him out of the water,” She said, looking at her partner. “It was too late. The little boy was already dead. He looked like he had hit his head on something; he was bleeding. And he wasn't breathing. I tried to wake him up, but I was too late to do anything. As soon as his family came to the scene, his mother picked him up in her arms and was sobbing. It was a terrifying experience, I haven't forgotten it to this day.” The look of horror plastered on my face was indescribable. This isn't possible. It has to be a coincidence.

“That sounds horrible. I'm sorry.” the man said.

“Sometimes I dream about him. I fantasize about having saved him in time and growing up with him. Its silly I know, but it helps ease my conscience.” she continued.

“It wasn't your fault though.” The man said. “You did all you could do right?”

She just nodded.

“I've heard legends. People claim to see a boy sitting right outside the lighthouse. They say he's waiting to find the girl who saved him and thank her. Its just a myth though. There's no such thing as ghosts.”