Michael cleaned up the pear splatter on the wall and turned off his iPod, putting it back in his pocket. He didn't know how he felt about his recent discovery. His grandfather wasn't crazy? He did have a ghost? And said ghost hated pears?
He decided it was time to pay the ghost a visit.
'Is there really a ghost in here? What if he's in here now? What if he's watching me?' Michael asked himself. He swallowed and looked around, knowing he wouldn't see anything there. He climbed the steps to his room and sat down on his bed. The stain on the wall and floor looked almost black.
'I wonder if that has something to do with the ghost?' He asked himself. He looked around the room. The window was open as usual.
"Are you here, now?" Michael asked out loud, feeling stupid. Of course there was no answer. The curtains blew softly with the breeze and Michael felt the hairs on his neck stand up.
"I just want to talk to you," He said. "Get to know you..." Michael mumbled. "I'm sorry about the pears... I know you don't like them, I just had to be sure that you were real..." He felt like an idiot. Michael sighed and laid down. He kicked his shoes off and climbed under the covers. He rested his head on the pillow and didn't feel the lonely eyes staring at him as he drifted off to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next two weeks passed and nothing of interest happened. Michael tried talking to his Geist more than once, but he never received an answer, and the activity stopped. Most of it anyways. There was always the unusual things he couldn't quite explained, so he chalked it up to the ghost. Footsteps at night, things moving. It seemed his spirit liked to play with him. It would often move things away from where he placed it. Sometimes even across the mansion. Michael found it annoying but still funny.
He was doing laundry and was bringing his clothes upstairs when he stopped. There, standing at the window, was a man. His hair was gray and resembled Orlando Blooms hair. He stood with his back to Michael and stared outside. His clothes were simple, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It took Michael a moment to realize he was transparent. His left hand was shoved in his pocket and his right sat between his head and the window frame. Michael dropped the basket and the man turned around. He gasped silently, and then he was gone.
Michael stood there for a moment.
Was that the ghost? Who else could it have been? He looked so sad. Why did he run? Is he here now? The questions ran through Michael's head faster than he could process them. He blinked before looking around the room.
"Are you here?" His voice cracked. "I didn't mean to startle you...I just needed to bring the clothes in here..." Michael felt stupid again. "I'll leave, you can have the room." Michael set the basket down and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
'Did I just give up my room to a ghost?' He stopped in the middle of the hallway.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael didn't know how long the ghost wanted to sit in the window. But it was well past midnight now and he wanted to go to bed. He thought about sleeping in the study, but decided against it. He didn't want to seem as crazy as his grandfather though he doubted the old man was ever actually crazy to begin with. Eventually, he got up the nerve to walk down the dimly lit hallway. He stopped at the door and hesitated, before knocking.
"Uh, I don't know if you're still in there...but uh... I'm really tired. I just need to get some sleep...if I could just have my room back for a few hours..." Michael mumbled. He didn't know what he was waiting for but suddenly the door opened slowly. Michael was surprised and it took him a second to step in. He looked around the room but saw no one. "Thank you..." He said anyways. He thought about stripping but decided against it. Something about the ghost watching freaked him out. He took off his shoes and climbed into bed.
He sat there, awake. The room was freezing. The window was open as usual and the breeze rolled in gently. He curled up in the blankets tighter but it did nothing to keep out the cold. With a sigh he stood up and walked down the hall. He grabbed two more blankets and walked back to bed, covering up. He still shivered. Snow was on the ground outside and it had to be below zero outside. He could do nothing to keep the cold out. He thought about moving to the study after all. He was about to move when he heard a strange scraping sound. He looked up and saw the window slowly lowering. It shut and the room was almost instantly warmer. He stared at the window and the space in front of it.
"Thank you." He said. The room was silent.
He turned back around and rested his head on the pillow. He fell asleep almost instantly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After that night, the house was booming with activity. The ghost was doing SOMETHING 24/7. Michael would be eating and his bowl would start sliding across the table. He would play the ghosts game and chase after his food. Or he would be in the shower and magically the hot water would be turned off. That one wasn't so funny. That wasn't to say the ghost was cruel to him. Just a prankster. Every night, when Michael would head to bed, the window would be closed before he got there. Even if it had been open all day.
He also helped around the house surprisingly. Michael had, more than one time, walked away from the laundry for a second, only to come back and find it all folded. He always made sure to thank the haunting spirit and let him have their room to himself all day, as long as he got it at night. He hadn't seen him again though. Not once.
Michael had ordered a pizza and he finally heard the doorbell ring. He jogged to the door and saw the same kid as usual.
"Hey, Tevon." He greeted the pizza guy.
"Hey." The kid smiled. He had come by a few times after the accident with the ghost, but hadn't come in.
"How much do I owe you?" Michael began unfolding the cash from his wallet.
"Ten fifteen." Tevon said.
"Here you go." Michael handed him the cash, giving him a decent tip as usual.
"Thanks." Tevon waved and headed back to his car. Michael shut the door. He set the pizza down in the kitchen and was pulling down a plate when there was a knock on the door. He frowned. He walked back and opened the door to see Tevon standing there.
"Hey, my car won't start. Can I use your phone to call my boss and a tow?" Tevon asked.
"Sure, come on in." Michael said. He felt the room go cold for a second. He walked ahead of Tevon and grabbed the phone. "Be nice." He whispered so Tevon couldn't hear him, but hopefully the ghost would. There was the sound of a door slamming upstairs. They both looked up the stairs.
"What was that?" Tevon asked.
"Wind, the window upstairs is open and it always slams that door shut if I don't close it." Michael laughed. "Here you go." He handed him the phone. Tevon began dialing and pulled the phone away from his ear after a second.
"What the hell? It was fine for a second there. Now it's just static." Tevon said.
"Oh, right. You have to be outside for the phone to work." Michael said.
"Why?"
"I don't know, it just never works in the house." Michael lied.
"Oh, okay." Tevon shrugged. He took a step towards the front door and it flew open, hitting the wall hard. "What the hell?" Tevon jumped.
"Wind! Damn that wind..." Michael chuckled awkwardly, trying to rush Tevon out the door. "If it doesn't get closed all the way, the wind pushes it open." He lied again.
"This house is creepy." Tevon said.
"Yeah, you wouldn't even believe how weird it gets around here when I'm alone." Michael didn't lie that time. Tevon made the call and handed the phone back to Michael. Michael put it back in it's place and thought for a second. "He's not going to stay forever, he's just waiting for a ride. Just be nice for him until the tow truck gets here, please?" He whispered, while walking over to Tevon.
"Come on in. You can wait for your tow truck inside." Michael said.
"Thanks!" Tevon smiled and stepped inside again. Michael grabbed the pizza.
"Want some? I never eat it all myself, anyways." Michael set the pizza down and took a slice for himself and Tevon grabbed one, thanking him again. Michael looked around and noticed the house was oddly quiet. Maybe the ghost had listened to him?
"So what-" The sound of a crash came from the kitchen. Michael spoke to soon.
"Just a second." Michael smiled and stepped inside the kitchen. He stepped inside and a knife was thrown, landing in the wall only a few inches away.
"Watch it! You could have killed me! And I, for one, don't plan to stick around this house like a certain squatter." Michael bent and began picking up the pieces of the broken plate the ghost had thrown. "Would you stop throwing things? He's not doing anything to you!" Michael spoke to the ghost as he cleaned. "He's just waiting for the two truck and then he'll be on his own damn way." Michael said, as he threw away the shards of broken ceramic.
"Who are you talking to?" Tevon stepped into the room.
"Myself! It was just me. I talk when I....clean." Michael knew the lie was dumb as soon as it left his mouth.
"What happened?" Tevon said, looking at some pieces Michael missed.
"Wind!" Michael said, quickly.
"The windows closed." Tevon pointed at the window in the kitchen.
"Wind, it was wind...This house has lots of wind it comes from the...wood...SO! Where's that tow truck, they take forever, don't they?" Michael laughed nervously, then he noticed the knife still in the wall behind Tevon. "Here, throw this away, would you?" He asked, giving Tevon the pieces of ceramic. As soon as he bent over the trash can he grabbed the knife and yanked it out of the wall, throwing it down on the counter. They heard a truck pull up and Michael looked out the window to see the two truck sitting outside.
"There it is! You should go talk to him." Michael pointed outside. "Thanks for the pizza!" He said, as he shut the door and sighed. The door upstairs slammed. Michael rolled his eyes.
"Drama queen."
~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, Michael didn't see or hear any ghost activity. He was forced to eat his food in peace and fold the laundry himself. He was about to step into his room to grab a towel when he heard a faint crying sound. He paused. It was definitely crying. He pressed his ear up against the door and listened. It was man, he was sobbing heavily and tried to keep it quiet. Michael paused. Was it the ghost? It had to be. He didn't know what to do, so he decided to knock on the door.
"Hey, are you okay?" He asked. The crying stopped. There was a moment of silence and the door opened. Michael stepped in and looked around. As usual, he saw no one. He sighed and sat on the bed. "I know you don't know me, and I don't know you. But we kind of live together and I want you to know that I'm you're friend. At least I consider us friends. I don't know a whole lot about ghosts...But I know a lot about people, and I think I could help." Michael was blushing, he no longer felt as stupid talking to himself, or at least it seemed like he was talking to himself. The room was silent and then the bed squeaked as an unseen weight sat down next to Michael. Michael's heart beat quickly. He swallowed.
