Poor Jon

   I had a good friend die when I was 8. We’ll call him Jon. He died pretty tragically too. He was hit by a car literally right in front of my house when he was chasing down a ball that bounced into the road. 

     Fast forward 7 years. I’m babysitting my little sister and she is playing outside. I’m on the porch swing reading and she’s shooting hoops on a little tikes hoop. The ball bounces out into the road and I look up to see her yell, “Don’t go after that ball Jon!!” Freaked the shit out of me. She never even knew about Jon. I asked her who “Jon” was and she said that he would play with her sometimes outside.