Is She a Ghost?

It's been ten years since we met and she still looks the same.

Maybe, she really is a ghost.

I stood in front of my bedroom mirror and adjusted my tie.

"Is this some sort of fancy private school?"

"Yup." I answered.

"And you're going to be gone the whole day, everyday?"

I buttoned up my shirt's collar and pulled up my tie until it was a snug fit.

"I'll be free on weekends."

I fished my shoes from under my bed and looked up to see that her supple lips were pursed and her mesmerizing eyes were filled with apprehension.

Hamu was lying on top of my bed. She had already put on my high school uniform, as if to encourage me.

Her pants looked really baggy and the shirt she wore was so big it was downright comical.

"What's the point? You might move away tomorrow. Might as well study on the internet. If you ever need to know something just Moogle it."

"I can't live off the internet."

"Tell that to your mom. Isn't she doing online spamming now?"

"It's Marketing. Online marketing. C'mon don't make fun of her. She's doing this for us."

Hamu batted her pretty eyelids mischievously and said, "You mean she's doing this for you. According to her I'm just an imaginary friend that you won't get over!"

I ignored her provocative words and packed some exercise books, a couple textbooks and my laptop into my backpack.

"Why are you carrying all that junk? Are you aiming for a retro vibe? Can't you just download the textbooks and record the lessons with your smartphone?"

I sucked in a few nervous gulps of air and tried to steady my thunderous heartbeat.

"I'm really nervous." I confessed. "This is the first time I've gone to school."

Hamu knitted her brow. "But didn't you register just last week? Or did you go to city hall to do that?"

"Ha." I laughed lightly. "I'm going either way, you can't stop me."

"Why would I want to stop you? If you want to become a cog in the machine and allow private industry to turn you into a mindless wage slave, have at it."

I sighed, deeply.

Last week, when I received my admission letter, I had nervously begun to fill out the registration papers when Hamu floated behind me and started chattering non-stop.

I gave her the book, 'Capital' by Karl Marx, hoping that it would keep her busy. Having little to do in the lead up to my new semester, she practically swallowed it in two days and I've been regretting it ever since.

I went into the bathroom and picked up my comb, but Hamu plucked it out of my hand.

She expertly styled my hair until it was not as ruffled as it was usually. She then straightened my tie and properly zipped up my bag.

"Thanks mom." I said with a silly smile.

"Your welcome sweety." She crooned and shot back an impish smile of her own.

I laughed quietly, and then hesitantly asked, "I thought you didn't want me to go?"

"Who says I don't want you to go? You're so annoying! You know what? I think I'll take a vacation. I've been babysitting you for ten years. If you add up all my off days I should get at least half a year of downtime."