The boy was already dead

The boy was already dead.

The boy was already dead. It was a fact that no one could deny, but for some reason, his body still walked among the living. His parents had buried him six months ago, in the cold, hard ground of the local cemetery. They had grieved and moved on, or so they thought. But the boy had not moved on. He had stayed, lingering in the shadows of their minds, a constant reminder of their loss.

It all started with the strange noises coming from the boy's old room. His parents would hear shuffling and whispering in the middle of the night, but when they went to investigate, they found nothing out of the ordinary. They shrugged it off as their grief playing tricks on their minds, but as the days passed, the noises grew louder and more frequent.

One night, the boy's mother couldn't take it anymore. She got out of bed and tiptoed down the hallway to her son's room. She opened the door and was met with a sight that she would never forget. Her son was standing there, in front of her, his eyes blank and empty. He was covered in dirt and his clothes were tattered and torn. She screamed and ran back to her bedroom, where her husband was already awake, having heard her scream.

They called the police, but when they arrived, they found no trace of the boy. His parents were convinced that they were going crazy, but the boy's ghost was just getting started. He began to appear everywhere, in the shadows, in the mirrors, in their dreams. He was always there, watching them, reminding them of their loss.

The boy's ghost was not content with just haunting his parents. He began to reach out to other people as well. He would appear in their dreams, whispering to them of death and sorrow. He would leave them notes, written in blood, warning them of their impending doom. He was a vengeful ghost, seeking to spread fear and terror to all who crossed his path.

The boy's parents tried to get help, but no one believed them. They were written off as crazy and their stories were dismissed as the ravings of grief-stricken parents. But the boy's ghost was real, and he was not done yet. He began to manifest in the physical world, leaving claw marks on walls and furniture, moving objects on his own.

The boy's parents were at their wits' end. They knew that they had to put a stop to this, but they didn't know how. They turned to a local priest for help, but he was just as skeptical as everyone else. That is, until the boy's ghost appeared to him as well.

The priest realized that the boy's ghost was not resting in peace, and that he was not going to stop until he was given what he wanted. The priest performed an exorcism, but it was not enough. The boy's ghost was too powerful, and he was not going to be driven away so easily.

The boy's parents were left with no choice but to exhume his body and cremate it. It was a gruesome and painful process, but it was the only way to put the boy's ghost to rest. They watched as his body was consumed by the flames, and they felt a sense of peace wash over them.

The boy's ghost was finally gone, but the memory of him would always linger. His parents knew that they would never be able to forget the terror that he had brought into their lives. They would always remember the boy who was already dead.