Hungry

The ghosts never attack. They never leave either. They just steal all my favorite snacks. They leave crumbs, and I sweep all day. When I close the panty, I worry. When I open the pantry, I’m mesmerized. My mom wonders about that. She would never believe me. When I wake up, I’m hungry, I’m hungry. I never complain though. I spend my time, turning the pantry light on and off. Opening and closing the door, rhythmically. Getting hungrier and hungrier. Growling and growling. I go to my room when the day ends. She brings me a snack. She worries. Not about ghosts, but worries.