Ever since the Black Tom found itself on Makete Street, Sandokan began to act strangely.

“It’s Geronimo, I’m sure . He’s come after me again!”

“Nonsense”, said Princess ” you’re imagining things. And even if it is , I’m sure he’s changed. Everyone does! ”

“Forget it Princess. He’s not going to change.

“It’s easy for you to say. You’ve not had to suffer his beatings as a child . You’ve not had to hear your mother’s tale of woe night after night.”

“That’s what you think,” pooh-poohed Princess. ”  I’ve come away too from a home that shackled me . Running away from a mother who needed mothering herself .”

Sandokan swished his tail and arched his back.  He thought he’d left Geronimo the street bully in the alleyways of Boston. Never in a hundred years could he imagine that he’d show up here in Makete Street , albeit a mere shadow of his bullying self.

Were those his golden eyes glinting in the dark? Or am I just imagining he’s there? I’m going crazy with the thought muttered Sandokan to himself .

Will I ever be free of him? Will I see him in  every Black Tom with yellow eyes ? Or has he really gone?

Each one of us it seems has ghost from the past that isn’t too far away. Waiting in the shadows. Watching your every move . Lurking in the background waiting to pounce. Sometimes we really see them. Oftentimes we imagine that they’re there. And they do live in our subconscious. Ever present.

It’s time to let those ghosts go free. It’s time to leave Geronimo behind.

I’m responding to this week’s prompt “Then I wondered if everybody has that person that haunts them, the one that got away.”
― Marlon James, A Brief History of Seven Killings

and sharing  my thoughts with other WRITE TRIBERS on Corinne’s and Sanch’s link #FridayReflections. 

Happy weekend all.