He jokingly proposed to a crazy woman on the street—what she said next will make you cry.
They told everyone not to talk to her.
They said she wasn’t just crazy, she was cursed.
She slept on cardboard next to the old post office, her hair disheveled, her clothes tattered, always humming a strange song—the same one—every day.
No one knew her real name.
No one cared to ask.
Until Daniel came over and said the words no one expected.
“Will you marry me?”
At first, people laughed.
Daniel was known for his pranks. A rising YouTuber with more charm than sense. He’d pranked teachers, homeless people, even pastors. But this one… this one was going to go viral. That was the plan.
Then he got down on one knee, pulled out a toy ring, and smiled like a clown for the camera.
She didn’t laugh.
She didn’t blink.
Slowly, she turned her head, looked him straight in the eyes… and whispered something no microphone picked up.
But Daniel heard it.
Her smile disappeared.
His hands began to shake.
Because what she whispered was something no living soul should know.
She called him by a name.
A name no one had called him since he was seven. A name only one person had used. And that person had died.
Daniel stood up quickly, his heart pounding in his ears.
Tom, his cameraman, stopped recording.
“Brother… What did he say to you?”
Daniel couldn’t speak.
The woman stood up slowly, shook out her torn skirt, and looked up at the sky like someone who had been waiting years to be seen.
Then she said it aloud.
“You left me to die.”
The people turned around. Confused.
“You left me in the fire, Daniel. But I came back. I always said I would.”
Sighs. Murmurs.
Daniel recoiled as if he were a child again. That name, that voice, the memory—a house on fire. A little girl screaming his name.
But that couldn’t be. It was just a joke.
Right?
Then came her last words before she turned and walked away barefoot:
“I still wear the ring you gave me. Even in death.”
Daniel collapsed to his knees.q
And in that moment, even the sun seemed to hide behind the clouds.
ways.
Part 1: The Ring and the Memory
Daniel had never been one for serious relationships. Not after the fire.
He had joked about everything, pranked nearly everyone he met—his classmates, strangers, even his closest friends. Being a YouTuber meant cultivating an image. His image was fun, careless, and filled with the kind of reckless charm that kept his followers entertained. But behind the pranks, behind the camera, Daniel carried a deep and painful secret. A secret no one knew about, not even his closest friends.
The fire.
It was the reason he had built the persona of a joker, to hide the fact that for years, he had carried the guilt of what happened when he was just a child.
The house fire took everything. His home, his family, and most painfully, his sister, Lily. She had been only six years old, and Daniel was seven when the fire broke out. They had been upstairs, trapped in their rooms by the flames. He could still hear her screams in his mind, her cries for help that had haunted him for years. He tried to reach her, tried to break through the smoke, but the fire had consumed everything, and by the time the firemen arrived, Lily was gone.
It wasn’t his fault. He knew that. But the guilt of not saving her, of not being able to reach her, had festered in him all these years. It was a weight he carried alone. And after the fire, he learned that people didn’t know how to look at him, how to be around him. So he learned to joke, to hide the pain, and to laugh at everything. It worked for a while—until it didn’t.
Now, here he was, standing in front of a woman, the same woman who had been sitting outside the old post office for months. A woman everyone whispered about, the one who had become part of the village’s strange folklore. The “crazy woman.”
No one knew her real name, and no one cared to ask. She was an enigma, a fixture on the street with tattered clothes, disheveled hair, and a soft hum to her voice as she walked around. She had a strange presence—something that drew people in, even if they didn’t want to acknowledge it.
But for Daniel, she was the perfect target. His pranks had become predictable, his YouTube views slipping into stagnation. He needed something new, something that would get the viral attention he craved. And so, when he saw her sitting there one afternoon, his cameraman, Tom, egged him on.
“Dude, just do it,” Tom had said with a laugh. “You’ve pranked everyone else. Why not her? It’s going to blow up.”
So, without thinking, Daniel had approached the woman, made a joke about marrying her, pulled out a cheap plastic ring, and dropped to one knee. “Will you marry me?” he asked with exaggerated flair, his voice full of mock seriousness. He’d expected laughter, the kind that followed all of his jokes. He expected the usual reaction—the awkward chuckles and shaking heads.
But she didn’t laugh.
She didn’t even blink.
She turned slowly, locking eyes with him. Her eyes weren’t vacant. There was something sharp, something piercing about them. And then, in the quietest of whispers, she spoke words that sent a shiver down his spine:
“Daniel.”
His heart froze. It wasn’t a name he had heard in a long time. And yet, there it was—his name, spoken by someone he didn’t know. Not only that, but the way she said it, the depth of recognition in her voice, made his blood run cold.
She continued in a whisper, so soft that only he could hear it. “You left me to die, Daniel. You left me in the fire. But I came back. I always said I would.”
The camera caught the moment, but Daniel wasn’t aware of it. His mind was reeling. His knees went weak as he stood up quickly, unable to process what was happening. Tom, his cameraman, had stopped recording, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere.
“Brother… what did she say to you?” Tom asked, his voice laced with concern.
Daniel’s mind was spinning. How did she know? How could she possibly know? He staggered backward, his breath shallow, his head swirling with memories of the fire. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The faces of the people in the crowd, watching curiously, blurred around him. But all he could hear was that voice.
“You left me in the fire, Daniel. But I came back. I always said I would.”
It was Lily’s voice. It was her.
He stumbled back, his vision narrowing as his knees buckled beneath him. The world seemed to tilt as the memories flooded back—of the smoke, the heat, the fire, the screams. Lily, his baby sister, crying for him. The guilt. The suffocating, overwhelming guilt.
No. It couldn’t be her. It wasn’t possible.
The woman slowly turned her gaze to the sky, her face softening as she muttered, “I still wear the ring you gave me, even in death.”
And with that, she walked away—barefoot, her torn skirt brushing against the cracked pavement.
Daniel dropped to his knees, his body trembling, his hands shaking. He felt like he was suffocating, trapped in the ghost of his past. For a long moment, everything around him seemed to stop. The sun, which had been shining so brightly, suddenly felt distant, and the clouds gathered, as though even the sky had turned its back on him.
Tom, still standing off to the side, hesitated before walking over to him. “Dan… are you okay?”
Daniel couldn’t speak. His mind was a blur of confusion, guilt, and fear. He had heard her voice. He had heard her say his name. The ring. The one he had promised to her, the one he had given her before she… before she had died in that fire.
The people who had been gathered around watching started to disperse, muttering among themselves. Some were still confused, others simply unsettled by the intensity of the moment. But Daniel couldn’t bring himself to stand, to answer. He didn’t know what to do.
He was left there, kneeling on the ground, his world crumbling in front of him.
Part 2: The Ghosts of the Past
The following days were filled with a restless, haunted energy. Daniel couldn’t shake the images of that day—the woman’s voice, the things she had said, the guilt that had resurfaced in an unrelenting wave. The world around him seemed out of focus, like the ground beneath his feet was no longer solid.
He avoided the camera, avoided the pranks, avoided everyone. His mind constantly returned to that moment, replaying the woman’s words. She had known. She had known something he had buried deep inside him.
He tried to push it all away, to ignore the gnawing feeling of being watched, of being haunted. But it was impossible. Every corner he turned, every whisper he heard, it all reminded him of the past. The fire. The screams. Lily.
He couldn’t escape it.
His nights became restless. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her—his little sister, calling for him. Screaming for him. He had failed her. He had left her.
The ringing in his ears was constant, like a reminder of the guilt he could never outrun.
Tom tried to reach out, but Daniel wasn’t ready to talk. He wasn’t sure if he ever would be. How could he explain this? How could he tell anyone that the ghost of his sister, a girl who had died in the fire, had come back to haunt him?
Then came the moment that changed everything.
It was a quiet evening, the air still warm from the lingering summer heat. Daniel was walking through the marketplace when he saw her again. The crazy woman. She was sitting on the same bench by the old post office, humming that same song. But this time, she wasn’t just humming.
She was holding something in her hands—something small and metallic. As Daniel approached, she turned her head, and their eyes met once more. Her gaze was not filled with madness, but something deeper—something that made his heart race.
She stood up slowly, as if the world was moving in slow motion. She held out the small object in her hand.
It was the ring.
The very same one. The one he had given to Lily all those years ago.
His breath caught in his throat as he took the ring, the memories flooding back, the weight of the past crashing over him. “Where did you get this?” he asked, his voice shaking.
The woman’s lips curled into a small smile. “I’ve always worn it,” she said, her voice as soft as a whisper. “Even in death.”
And in that moment, Daniel knew. It wasn’t just a prank. It wasn’t a coincidence. The woman wasn’t mad. She wasn’t a ghost either.
She was Lily. Somehow, someway, Lily had returned.
But why?
Part 3: The Truth and the Reckoning
In the days that followed, Daniel couldn’t bring himself to speak to anyone. The ring weighed heavy in his pocket, a constant reminder of the impossible truth that had just been revealed to him. His sister, the one he had lost in the fire, had come back. But what was she now? A ghost? A manifestation of his guilt? Or was she truly alive in some form, living a life beyond death?
The questions haunted him, but no answers came.
He returned to the place where the woman had last spoken to him, standing near the old post office where the echoes of the past felt the strongest. He waited, his heart pounding, hoping for a sign, hoping for something that would explain everything.
After hours of waiting, she appeared. She was walking slowly, her head down as if contemplating something deep. She looked older now, though Daniel couldn’t say how. There was a deep weariness in her eyes, a sadness that seemed to permeate her every movement.
She stopped when she saw him, her eyes meeting his without hesitation.
“You’ve come back,” Daniel said, his voice thick with emotion. “But why? What happened to you?”
The woman—Lily—smiled, but it was not a smile of joy. “I never left, Daniel. I was always here, waiting. Waiting for you to remember, for you to feel the guilt of what happened. You left me in the fire, and you couldn’t save me. But I never left. I couldn’t.”
Tears welled in Daniel’s eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I tried… I tried to save you.”
“I know,” she said gently. “But you didn’t. And I had to learn to live with that. We both did.”
Daniel fell to his knees, overcome with grief and guilt. “How can I make it right? What do I do now?”
Lily knelt down beside him, placing her hand on his. “You don’t have to do anything, Daniel. Just live. Let the past go. Let me go.”
And with those final words, she faded into the darkness, leaving Daniel alone with his heart full of sorrow and understanding.
As he sat there, the weight of the past began to lift. The ring remained in his hand, but it no longer felt like a burden. It felt like a gift—a symbol of love, loss, and forgiveness.
The End.
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