I just watched someone on TikTok tour the long-abandoned farm that used to belong to my family. He wasn't supposed to go there.

It's beyond midnight. I'm sitting in bed much past the time I should be asleep, idly scrolling around TikTok, as is my regular habit. I understand it's a horrible habit. However, you are here, right, reading Medium?

I idly click away the previous video I viewed, which featured a cat with a melon-shaped helmet, and a live stream appears in its stead. It's dark within a crumbling old structure, and headlamps or torches create an almost strobing impression. Ghost hunters, or similar terminology. Not to my taste. As I lift my finger to browse once again, something catches my attention and stops me cold.

A framed black-and-white picture on the wall is panted by the camera. My grandparents on the day of their wedding. I remain still while paying close attention to the camera as it advances. I've looked at that picture innumerable times since visiting their farmhouse as a youngster, so I could identify it anywhere. Out of all the pictures on their walls, this one was my fave.

Surely this TikTokker couldn't be at my grandparents' former farm? It was accurate to say that upon their death, it was allowed to deteriorate. I check out GhostFighter365, their handle. I mentally note that I should go on their page to see where else they have been, but for the time being I find it impossible to take my eyes off of this stream in case it vanishes forever.