Unconditional Love The phrase "I love you" comes in various forms, from the whispered confession of a tight embrace to a shouted declaration to the sky for something as simple as a crush. It's said by a mother holding a newborn as her commitment to her child solidifies with those three words, or by a tearful girl begging for forgiveness from her hurt friend. The sentiment of love can be conveyed through different fonts, sizes, languages, and signs, and its meaning can be lost without context. But to hear the phrase "Owen, I love you" from an object meant for nothing more than hopes and wishes, that was something else entirely.

I sat on my bed, my body frozen, as I was looking down at the charm in my hand, a talking charm, and it was confessing it was an appreciation for me. even though I'd done nothing to warrant such a statement. Without a second thought, I dropped it, gasping in shock, and it fell to the floor once again, lifeless. Maybe I was losing it. My lips quivered in confusion and a bit of fear as my hand fumbled behind me through the blankets to find my phone, muttering, "No way... no. That's not something that can happen. Am I asleep?"

Objects coming to life was not something that would have occurred to me immediately if it weren't for the fact that it spoke to me without hesitation. "Please don't hurt me," it had said suddenly. Hurt it? How had the phrase "I love you" spiraled so quickly into fear, especially to someone like me who was always in fear, I was never the one to cause it.

"I'm not... you're scaring me," I said.

Even as I looked down at the charm, it remained motionless. I took a deep breath, gripped my covers, leaned forward from my bed to pick it back up, and closed my eyes tightly, half expecting it to jump at me or hurt me in some way. But I was only met with a soft giggle of innocence. When I opened my eyes slowly, the drawn face on the charm was moving like an animation, the ghost was smiling with a tinted shyness on its face.

"You're alive?" I asked.

It mimicked me, "You're alive?"

I shook my head to agree and spoke again, "I'm alive... but you shouldn't be."

The charm looked at me with confusion and replied, "Why shouldn't I be?"

I stopped, not saying another word as I thought about it. It was true, in a way. Why shouldn't it be alive? Logically, I could say that it was nothing more than a few tissues and rubber bands, but that felt like a cold response. If it was true that the thing in my hand was now living, who was I to reduce it to nothing more than forgettable waste? Although these thoughts I had were very profound, most people would say a kid my age shouldn't have them. But who decides that? The same goes for this charm being alive.

"I Don't know," I said.

The ghost smiled and started to move side to side playfully in my hand.

"Who are you?" I asked.

It replied, "Who are you?"

A simple question, yet I felt stunted to answer. I thought about it and felt a numbness grow in my throat as I shrugged, "I don't know, I'm just me... my name's Owen."

The charm nodded and said, "I know!"

Then I asked, "Then what are you?"

The charm froze and softly said, "I don't know."