Falling down while walking across the stage at high school graduation, ripping my pants the first day of starting a new job, calling my college professor/mentor "mom" during a presentation made in front of an entire lecture hall… Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there. I was just going over moments in my life less humiliating than the banshee-esque scream that rips out of me as I log roll away from the woman in my home. Yeah, even a moment of mystified admiration can’t stifle the sudden and vivid realization that I’ve got a visitor from beyond the veil right next to me when she starts flickering like a goddamn fluorescent light!

 

“Not gonna lie, not the worst reaction I’ve gotten from someone seeing me. Though at some point, a girl’s gonna start to take it personally.” The woman in white puffs her cheeks out and crosses her arms indignantly, an act that would honestly be adorable if, you know, SHE WASN’T A FUCKING GHOST!

 

“G-g G-g-g G-ghost!!!” I articulate flawlessly as the spectral home-invader chuckles.

 

“Well, zoinks Scoob, here I thought you wanted to see me what with the elaborate séance and all. I mean, us being able to talk like this was the intended result, right?”

 

She’s not wrong, but nothing in this situation is right. The séance wasn’t supposed to work! What kind of séance actually works!? It was supposed to be a dumb thing that I could do to feel like I’d exhausted every possible option with regard to my sound situation before buckling and buying a white noise machine or something. I honestly didn’t think I’d get this far and completely lack any discernable plan for this encounter.

 

“G-grudge lady!!!” My mouth persists in motoring off every stray thought running through my head. Long black hair, white dress, yeah, didn’t take long to connect the dots here. Also doesn’t help that I watched that movie when I was like five and it messed me up something fierce for years.

 

“Nope… not the grudge lady… I can do a wicked impression of her though! Check it!” True to her word, the ghost flips her hair in front of her face and starts making a guttural growling noise while spasming and teleporting towards me in short, horrifyingly abrupt bursts. The sound formerly known as a scream coming out of my mouth has now evolved into a pitch I’m sure only dogs and similarly pure-hearted individuals can hear. When she gets near me, the woman vanishes completely until I feel her breath tickle my ear with a “Boo!”

 

It is an accomplishment beyond compare that I don’t ruin the pajamas I’m wearing right now.

 

Before I’m able to literally roll in the opposite direction, a frigid hand grabs my shoulder. “Now, stop calling me weird things when I’ve already introduced myself. I’m Agatha, A-Ga-Tha! Like the writer, or unfortunately on the nose ghost type pokemon trainer. No more ghost, or grudge, it’s Agatha! Capiche?”

 

I believe she just made me an offer I can’t refuse. “Sure, yeah, Agatha, got it… please don’t possess me!” I honestly don’t know at what point my mind’s gonna catch up to my mouth, but I sure hope it’s soon.

 

Agatha clicks her tongue repeatedly in disappointment. “Is this really all I’m gonna get from you? An endless string of offensive stereotypes? At least have the courtesy to properly introduce yourself!”

 

A recognizable three-chime tune plays as my ability to form rational thoughts reboots. “Why do I have to introduce myself? You already called me Milton… how do you know my name, anyway?”

 

Lowering her voice to a purposefully mocking version of my own, Agatha flickers a foot away from her current position and begins pantomiming a scene. “Good evening to you gorgeous woman, my name is Milton, and it is an absolute pleasure to meet you!” Zapping back to her original position, Agatha lets her voice slip back into its normal tone. “Oh, Milton, I’m absolutely charmed. My name is Agatha, and the pleasure is all mine!” She fake shakes her own hand before dropping the bit, looking at me, and shrugging. “Come on dude, it really isn’t that hard. I up and died and suddenly manners are a thing of the past? I didn’t think my life was the glue holding society together, but here we are!”

 

Realizing it’s ridiculous to still be maintaining my prone position, I sit up. “Alright, I’m sorry, I realize that I’ve been… less than hospitable.”

 

“Try downright hostile, bub.”

 

“Alright, I’ve been a dick, no two ways about it. I apologize… any chance we can start over?”

 

Agatha pretends to ponder for a couple of seconds while rhythmically rapping her fingers on her chin. “I suppose I could be amenable to that… with one condition!” I already don’t like this. “You gotta charm the living shit… er, dead shit outta me! That didn’t sound right. Ugh, whatever! You be a smooth operator and make me swoon! I’ve always wanted to swoon!”

 

Swoon? I’m supposed to make a ghost lady swoon? I’ve never made anybody with a pulse swoon. How the hell is this supposed to work? “Umm, I’d love to oblige, but… I don’t really think I’m the best person for the job. You’re talking to the least smooth person in the world, like, I’m the figurative equivalent of sandpaper or sharkskin.”

Waving off my objection, Agatha extends her hand. I take hold of it and she helps me back to my feet. “Pshh, you’ll be fine. Now, let’s set the scene. You’re just meeting me for the first time. I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, obviously this part is a given and requires no acting chops but I thought I’d give you the go-ahead to really gush, oh, and you’re trying to make the most incredible first impression to impress me! Got it? Alright! And… action!!!”

 

My brain bricks harder than an old Xbox and the only thing that slowly dribbles out of my mouth is a dull, “Uhhhhhhh.”

 

The ghost, who’s having entirely too much fun at my expense right now, snorts out a laugh. “Alright, dial tone isn’t my go-to when I think ‘sexy’ but you’re thinking outside the box, I can appreciate that. This time, let’s try a little less ‘can you hear me now’ and a little more passion and desire! Aaaaaaaaand, action!”

 

Unable to keep up with the whirlwind that is Agatha, I nearly let loose another long, drawn-out note of dumbfoundedness. What I manage to replace it with… isn’t much better. “Uh… hi!”

 

“Hi.”

 

“... Hi.”

 

“... hello?”

 

“......................hi?”

 

Agatha’s palm smacks into her face with an echoing crack. “Well, that time we did achieve words. Actually, one word, but an improvement is an improvement! This time, I’ll let you decide when we’re starting. Take a minute, figure out what you want to say. Come up with a plan… and then make the magic happen.”

 

The only magic I want to make happen is to disappear from the situation. On the one hand, virtually any fear I had about Agatha and her ghostly nature is just gone. Unfortunately, I'm now terrified of this exercise in futility exposing me for the absolute socially inept dingus that I am.

 

Okay, think dingus, think! Who’s the most charming character I know? Chloe Frazer… Morrigan… why does it seem to be any video game character voiced by Claudia Black? Oh my god, it’s the voice! It’s all in the voice! Oh hell yeah, I got this in the bag. Taking in a deep breath and looking Agatha directly in the eyes, I open my mouth… and immediately realize that I suck at impressions. “Whale ain’t chu a jolly goo sigh now innit?”

 

Obviously, this incredibly offensive cautionary tale about trying to emulate accents does not make Agatha swoon, but it does send her doubling over in laughter if that counts for anything. The ghost clutches her stomach and laughs harder than I’ve ever made anybody laugh in my entire life… all by trying to be charming. I think I’ve figured out why I’m still single beyond all the thousands of other reasons. “Ho-Ly SHIT!” She finally manages to choke out between bouts of laughter. “I don’t know what’s funnier, that your first instinct was to try an accent, that you somehow chose a cockney accent, or that you failed to copy the accent so badly that you made Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins look like a competent impressionist.”

 

Agatha continues cackling while I try to purge this memory from my head before it takes root and becomes a permanent part of who I am. Yeah, totally won’t think about this at night while I’m trying to sleep from here until eternity, not at all! “I told you, I’m not good at this! There’s no way I can make you swoon and it's just kinda cruel to expect that of someone!”

 

The ghost quiets down pretty quickly, obviously no longer amused by her game. Her face reels with something akin to guilt as she speaks again in a low voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how uncomfortable this made you. We can stop now.”

 

“Thank you.” For a ghost, she’s awfully accommodating. Or maybe all ghosts are, and I’m just making some unflattering assumptions again. “I know I kinda freaked out on you earlier–”

 

“You mean when you totally lost your shit?”

 

“... Yes, I totally lost my shit. It’s just that meeting a ghost wasn’t something I ever expected to happen to me. Especially one that seems, you know, nice.”

 

While I’m trying and failing to string together words at a reasonable pace, Agatha entwines her fingers behind her head and fidgets a bit. “Yeah, well, I never expected to be a ghost, so it’s safe to say life’s kinda weird like that sometimes.”

 

An awkward silence forms between us as we kinda stare off into nothingness to the lovely soundtrack of my apartment slowly collapsing in on itself. “So… why were you crying?” I ask with absolutely zero tact, because why not? I’ve already made the worst first impression possible. Might as well continue to be completely idiotic tonight.

 

My ghostly guest shrugs. “Why do fish swim, birds fly, and robots dream of electric sheep? It’s just nature, y’know? Pretty sure you only become a ghost because you have some kinda unfinished business. Realizing that you’ll never fulfill your wildest dreams and desires can be just a little bit heartbreaking.”

 

A realization dawns on me that has me feeling like the biggest jackass in the world. “Wait, was that what the whole swooning thing was about? Was that your regret? I’m sorry I just dismissed the whole thing. We can try again and–”

 

Once more, the ghost laughs at me, but this time her joy seems manufactured and hollow. “You’re very sweet for offering, but even if it was a part of my regret, it’s one piece of a much bigger pie. I – You know what, never mind. That’s not important right now. More than just my own selfish desire there, I was hoping the whole swoon exercise would help you a bit.”

 

“Me? How the hell would that help me? Why would you want to help me? I’ve done nothing but antagonize you since I’ve been aware of your presence!”

 

“True, you are an extremely antagonistic ass, but for some reason my spirit seems to be attached to yours. Like, even before you heard me at night, I’ve been compelled by something to follow you around and, if I may be blunt, YEEESH. Your life is a mess, Milton. I thought maybe flirting with an adorable ghost would be kinda fun for you and make you smile for once.”

 

Alright, being told your life sucks by someone who literally doesn’t have a life anymore is a powerful blow to my nearly non-existent ego. “It’s not that bad, I have a job!”

 

“That you hate.”

 

“Everyone hates their job… Oh, I have a good family!”

 

“Whose phone calls you screen and haven’t visited in years.”

 

“I have friends!”

“No, you have colleagues that you never agree to see outside of work.”

 

“...My bed is amazing!”

 

“And you spend nearly all of your free time in it. You’re not winning this one. Just admit it, things haven’t been great for you.”

 

Without realizing it my hands had clenched into tight fists. So what if my life is a mess? It’s always been this way. Since high school, I’ve been absolutely miserable, but by now I’m pretty much numb to it. Why rock the boat and risk making everything worse again when I can just sail on in my regular, yet calm, sea of shit? “I don’t have to admit anything.” Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, it’s also a fantastic coping mechanism. “Even if I did, what the hell are you gonna do? This isn’t some great fantasy where I get swept away by Casper, the friendly ghost and my entire life changes for the better. This is reality, and strange as it may be to say that to an actual ghost, it’s just how it is. The last time I tried to change anything for the better, it just made life so much worse.”

 

Flickering right in front of me, just a bit too close for me to be any kind of comfortable about our proximity, Agatha whispers, “You mean two years ago? January? When you–”

 

“That never happened!” I roar, somehow scaring a ghost into retreating. “I don’t give a fuck what you saw or what you think I was doing. It never happened!”

 

Holding firm, Agatha reaches for my shoulder, but I recoil away. “It did happen, and you seemed so much happier. I get why you stopped, trust me, I do, but ever since you gave it up you’ve been–”

 

“Normal. Respectable. Better–”

 

“Miserable!” She screams, tears forming in her eyes. “I know you don’t know me, and you could give a fuck about anything I have to say. But I’ve been forced to get to know you and watching you self-destruct slowly is fucking torture!”

 

I can feel my eyes stinging and I know I’m in danger of breaking down really soon. Instead of that bullshit, I stomp over to my bed, hellbent on avoiding this particular topic like the plague it is. “Then feel free to stop fucking watching! I’m going to bed before I lose my entire goddamn night to this farce. Keep crying for all I care. Just leave me alone!” Jumping onto my mattress, I quickly close my eyes to escape from the sight of Agatha’s hurt expression.

 

Well, my grand plan for a better night's sleep backfired in an epic fashion, now there are two sets of sobs I have to ignore as the sun slowly rises.