I met Georgie the Ghost when I was on my year abroad in Valencia. He would just come into my room in the middle of the night as if not knowing that the night was when most of the humans were asleep. Georgie didn’t seem to care. At that time I considered him the most annoying ghost I’d met until I got to know Margaret but well that’s another story.
First time I met him, I had noticed an unmistakeable sadness in his eyes or more precisely in his entire expression. I’d always felt like it must have been there before, that maybe he was born with this sadness, deeply engraved in his hazel eyes. His eyes were very familiar to me, like I could see them everywhere, in the trees, autumn leaves, during those long London’s rainy days.
Georgie was a romanticist. As a baby he would only open his eyes when someone was reading him Anderson’s fairy tales and playing Mozart. First time his mother felt him moving inside her tummy was when she watched Café Mϋller by Pina Bausch. The mother felt like Georgie was dancing inside her. When he was born the moon turned upside down and disappeared for a few seconds, when an old man refused to watch the sunset and when the blueberries turned pale. Now how could he possibly lead a normal life born during these bizarre circumstances? Ne never seemed to fit in. Some people looked at him like he was a villain or a tragedy of some kind maybe even a disappointment. The others thought differently. They thought he was strange and odd in the most beautiful and peculiar way. Like Madame Bombon did for instance. These people shared similar destiny. They saw purple when it was black, they saw a weeping moon crying out of solitude and they saw dancing frogs collapsing in the rain. They were so blind that they saw what was truly there and the others followed the picture. Big and sad picture.
Georgie didn’t tell me so much about his childhood. He loved sitting on the tree, secretly looking at the people underneath. That’s how he first met Madame Bombon. He used to think that people looked way more interesting and fascinating from above. They were unreachable and invincible from that precious distance and that made Georgie crave for them. Moreover they didn’t scare him as much. Normally he tried to avoid any contact with people. Georgie was terrified of humanity. He just didn’t understand people... buying too much ice cream, smiling when they felt like crying and always wanting to have the wrong things. At his beloved tree he felt safe. Mainly he was daydreaming there, creating his lovely world that was so tiny that only he could fit there.
The one thing he particularly loved doing was building the origami swans. He was always stunned by idea of swans swimming through the innumerable amount of leaves. Every night, from his window he could see his swans shining in the dark. They caressed his soul and provided him certain happiness and sullen dreams. Unfortunately during an autumn rainy day, Georgie’s father cut off his beloved tree. After this unfortunate and tragic event, nothing else in Georgie’s life made him as happy as when he was sitting in his adored tree. Well only until he met Leonie..........