I see ghosts. This ability would scare most people; they fear the cold, bitter touch of the past creeping up behind them, whispers of regret or grief. But I welcome them. I invite their shivers to run down my spine, the low murmur of their voices somehow shrilling in my ears. For me, these ghosts aren’t distant entities. They wear my face, and they linger because the burdens they represent are mine.
In the quiet of the night, a translucent being would emerge. These ghosts found refuge in the shadowy corners of my mind, growing bolder with each doubt. However, as time passed, my desire to take initiative grew. I wanted to conquer these spirits, and through confrontation, I did just that. I questioned each spirit, addressing their meaning and why they lingered. Eventually, their forms lost definition, and their shrills softened to nothing. By acknowledging each burden and finding ways to address my insecurities, I was able to rid my mind of ghosts and make space for growth.
But the spirits left behind more than space; they left behind a gift—a new clarity that allowed me to see others’ ghosts. I began to notice these unspoken burdens in the people around me.
My friends call it “Bree Luck,” an unexplainable magnetism that draws people toward me like moths to a flame. It’s as if people sense this openness in me and gravitate toward it. Strangers will often start conversations with me, opening up in ways that surprise us both. Oftentimes, they offer sudden acts of kindness — free meals, favors, opportunities. It feels like luck, and maybe part of it is, but I think “Bree Luck” is something more.
This ability matters far beyond chance encounters. In a society where incarceration is too often treated as the only answer to wrongdoing, empathy is scarce. Millions live with ghosts they cannot shake such as trauma, systemic inequities, and mental illness. However, our justice system rarely acknowledges these complexities.
My vision is to change that. I want to bring empathy into spaces where it has been long dismissed. I hope to study why crimes are committed, what invisible burdens drive them, and how interventions can prevent cycles of harm. Justice, I believe, cannot be achieved without first understanding the humanity of those caught in its grip.
But the truth is, I’m not the only one who sees ghosts. You do too. Maybe yours appear as the memories you can’t quite shake, the doubts that whisper, or the faces of people you’ve lost who still shape your choices. Regardless of what form they take, we all carry burdens that follow us.
The difference lies in what we choose to do with those ghosts. We can ignore them and let them grow heavier until they shape our every move, or we can confront them by asking what they want to teach us, and how they might sharpen our empathy for others. When we learn to see our own ghosts clearly, we’re better equipped to recognize the ones that haunt the people around us.
So, I encourage you to start seeking out the ghosts in your world, too. There are lessons in the dark that need to be brought to the light. When we acknowledge the burdens we carry and the ones we notice in others, we create room for courage. Justice, compassion, and especially healing begin with the courage to look closely at what haunts us. The ghosts we face can become the very guides that show us a better life, and, in doing so, the way we navigate our world can improve, too.