The Ghost in Jersey (EDITED)

It was in that moment that she came face-to-face with the truth. Without hesitation, she rushed out of the door and drove straight to the last place she had seen him - Point Pleasant, New Jersey. Finding solace on a bench, she patiently waited, immersing herself in the symphony of sounds surrounding her. Laughter of children filled the air as they gleefully darted toward various rides and games, their parents futilely attempting to slow them down or keep them in one place. The distant jingles and clangs of fair games provided a faint backdrop to the bustling atmosphere of the pier. Amidst the chaos, the fairground rides roared like they were on the verge of collapse, yet everyone had unwavering faith in their durability. While everyone around her seemed to be enjoying themselves, she stood apart. Silently, she waited, gazing out at the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, her patience unwavering.

If her dream was indeed a premonition, he would appear at this very spot, settling beside her on the familiar bench. Anxiety swirled in the young girl's mind, but hope persisted in every thought. There was no way he would have simply vanished from her life without saying goodbye, especially considering she was his clear favorite. She shifted her feet from the wooden dock to the metal railing lining the boardwalk, extending as far as the eye could see. She couldn't predict how long the wait would be, but she couldn't afford to miss the chance to see him again – not in this lifetime or the next.

Part of her wondered if she could spare a moment to grab a slice of pizza and an ice cream cone, the same treat he had bought for her during their last joy-filled outing on the boardwalk. Glancing behind her, she caught sight of the small pizza stand, the tempting aroma of cheese, sauce, and herbs wafting through the breeze. Despite her longing for a slice of cheesy goodness and a refreshing, crisp Dr. Pepper, she summoned all her strength to remain rooted on the bench. The idea of missing the opportunity to see him one last time weighed too heavily on her heart, so she patiently persisted.

Deep down, she recognized the absurdity of the situation. This was not how the world worked. Dreams were not meant to be taken literally; they were more like a balm for an anxious mind. Yet, the dream felt so vivid, so authentic, that she couldn't resist the urge to confirm it was merely a figment of her imagination. As hours slipped away, the girl refused to budge an inch. People came and went, immersed in their day at the Jersey Shore, without sparing a glance for the girl on the bench. The sun began its descent behind her, weakening her faith. Perhaps, just perhaps, the dream had been nothing more than an illusion, a missed opportunity.

And then it happened. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man she had been eagerly awaiting approaching. A radiant smile illuminated the girl's face, but it quickly faded as she realized that no one else passing by seemed to acknowledge his presence. He settled beside her on the bench, maintaining a respectful distance. A single tear silently rolled down the girl's cheek as the truth dawned upon her.

"Don't be sad, young one," the old man said cheerfully, "we both knew this was inevitable." With those words, a faint smile flickered across the girl's lips. It brought her comfort to know that even in death, her grandfather's spirit remained buoyant. She nodded silently, etching every feature of his face into her memory. It was as if time had stood still; he appeared exactly as he did the last time they were together in this very spot