There was something about the entire ordeal that did not sit well with me.
It was hard to say what, exactly, caused this feeling. As far as the day went, things were just lovely. A lukewarm day, a cloudy sky, and shadows everywhere. It was, in many ways, what some might call typical. For others, myself included, it was less so.
Had it not been for the new home I was forced to move into, this day might have gone a bit better. If this house was not several hundred years old, a place with false walls and hidden passageways, then, perhaps, I might have been okay with how things were turning out. But never say I’m an optimist, for seeing a silver lining in the most horrific situations was one thing I would never do. Not even if my life counted on it.
Perhaps that was a reason why I couldn’t quite shake scowl I knew was be marring my face. It was only natural. How many people could say they were standing in front of a ghost, their feet planted firm, and trying not to start yelling? Plenty of people in my old hometown thought I was crazy, and I’d rather not add the citizens of this place to it, too.
“You honestly think that you coming here, in my home, will make me leave?” The ghost was saying, at that moment. I tapped my fingers against my thigh, eyes narrowed as the ghost let out an echoing, amused laugh. Or, well, I think it was amused.
Hard to tell when they’re dead, considering their warped sense of humor.
When my response did not come as swift as this dead man would have liked, the entity before me continued, “I’ve been here longer than any member of your family’s been alive. So why, exactly, would I be so inclined to leave my home?”
“Because I said so?”
Wrong answer, that. Here’s a core truth: sharing a room with a ghost wasn’t all sunshine and butterflies. It never ends well. It might start out well enough, but, well, the dead tend to be very temperamental. Might have something to do with being demoted to a child’s “imaginary friend.” This ghost was no worse than the rest, but he had a long way to go before he made his way to the ‘best of them.’
This dead man’s pale face turned purple, transparent hands turning solid faster than I could blink. Temperamental, remember? This one, not only was he in a right fit, he was also far more powerful than I anticipated. An incorporeal manifestation shifting gears to a corporeal manifestation?
Shit, I was screwed. Royally fucked. As good as dead.
I stepped backward, hands coming up in a gesture of peace as I added, “Because, frankly, we both known I live here. Neither of us likes it, because, frankly, sharing a room with a dead man is wrong on so many levels.”
“Oh, now there’s something wrong with me?”
I really couldn’t come up with the right words, now could I? I swallowed, easing towards the door as I said, “No, no, no! Nothing’s wrong with you! Where did you hear that? I’ll be sure to deliver your complaints in a timely manner.”
After that, I’m not sure who screamed the loudest.
The ghost or me.