Cadie's Ghosts: Fact Or Fiction?

If my mother is telling the truth, I’ve been a magnet for the paranormal since childhood. I’ve told her stories of the little girl I saw in a supposedly-deserted hotel hallway, the shadowy figure in my bedroom door, and the tiny hat-wearing ghost I spotted in my bathroom mirror. She believed in that sort of thing more than I did, even if I was the one to experience it all. I was skeptical, and I wouldn’t admit to myself that these “ghosts” could be real at all. The ghosts I saw were startling but not scary, unsettling but not dangerous. Or, at least, not dangerous enough that I gave them any second thought. This time, however, while I was spending the night at my friend Cadi’s house, “dangerous” didn’t even begin to describe it.

Whether
I didn’t actually hear an answer. Somehow, I just felt what he was trying to say. By now, the ghost had started to become more detailed, as well. I still couldn’t physically see it, but in my mind’s eye, the picture of this strapping young man in a military uniform was clear. I relayed all of this information to Cadie, who then used my description to identify the ghost. She claimed he was her uncle, who had died tragically young in a piloting accident in the military. Cadi asked him questions only he could know the answer to, about family and friends and dates. Even though I hadn’t ever heard of her uncle or any of the people she asked him about, I relayed his feelings and thoughts about the people. According to Cadi, every single one of my translations matched what she thought her uncle’s answers would be. We were both
Purple. Purple. Purple. Cadi had no idea what that color had to do with her uncle, and we went through every word association we could to try to understand what he wanted, but to no avail. That is, until I mentioned that purple was the color of my bedroom. I don’t think it’s possible to truly describe his reaction, but imagine bright, invisible, deafeningly silent, burning cold fireworks, and that’s what it felt like in my mind. He was thrilled that I made the connection, and immediately I realized what he wanted: to see my home. More specifically, he wanted to go home with me. Cadi and I both remembered how, in response to a previous question, he told us that ghosts could end up trapped in houses or certain areas, unable to leave without permission. Now, he was asking for that permission, and he wanted me to give it to