“AHHHHHH”

“AHHHHHHHH”

That about sums up the first time we met. 

The second I moved into my new house, I was welcomed by a ghost. Just like a horror movie, one step into the house and something runs across the hallway. Shrugging it off, I examine my new home. 

Opening the door under the stairs, I expect there to be a mop, wipes, rags — everyday cleaning supplies. But what I don't expect to see is a tall male with chocolate-brown hair and unusually faint, creamy skin. He has one foot in the mop bucket, a rag on his head and he's stuck in between the brush and the vacuum cleaner. 

I scream in fear. He screams back with equal shock. I slam the door shut in his face and run to find my phone. “There's someone in my house,'' I murmur, hiding behind the kitchen counter as I dial the emergency number. 

“Who?” A cold gust of air fans over my ear. Shrieking, I fall back, scrambling away. The youthful man peers at the fallen phone on his hands and knees. 

“Who are you hiding from?” he crawls towards me as I continue to back away. Once he registers this, he stops and sits back, crossing his legs. He tilts his head like a confused child “Are you scared of me?” 

“W-who are you?” My horrified tone wavers as I carefully stand up. He's distracted as he attempts to pick up my phone. Instead of touching it, his fingers go straight through the solid object. And let me tell you, that was more than enough to have me running for my life. 

Jumping over the stray boxes in the hallway, I grab a fallen mop, using it as my weapon. “Don't move any closer!”  

####

“So, what's your name?” I hold out my hand for him, the ghost sitting opposite me on the ground. After playing cat and mouse for two whole hours, I'd come to terms that there is in fact a ghost living in my house. We've made peace. 
He glances at my open palm questioningly, tilting his head. “Oh, sorry” I retract my hand, offering him a sheepish smile. “Im Yuri.” 

His expression falters, his brown bangs falling to the side as he pokes his inner cheek with his tongue. “I don't know what my name is,” he concludes, crossing his legs. I can't help but wonder if he's sitting on the ground or hovering above it. Would it be rude to ask? 

“Oh, why don't you come up with a new one?” I suggest. He pouts his lip in concentration. “I can't think of any.” he shakes his head with a hint of confusion in his tone. “Call me ghost.” 

“But wouldn't that be rude?” 

“No. If you call me ‘Ghost’, I'll call you ‘Girl’.” He nods his head satisfied. Not fully understanding his logic, I raise my eyebrow. “But I'm not a girl. I'm a woman.” 

He waves his hand dismissively. “It's fine. It's G and G. Ghost and girl. Alliteration. Ghost and Woman… doesn't sound as good does it?” A wave of confidence washes over him. As he stands up, a grin creeps on his face. “Okay, Girl, follow me.” is what he says before whizzing away. 

Once I find him, he's in the sitting room, eagerly staring ahead. “Make this rectangle light up!” He points enthusiastically like a child. “Make it talk!” 

“... Do you mean the TV?”

####

“What are you laughing for?” A chilling breeze brushes past me. At this point, I'm used to the natural frosty temperature. Placing the vacuum cleaner back in the mini room under the stairs, the ghost floats past me. 

“Remember the first time we met?” A horrified expression masks his face. “You called the TV a ‘rectangle’.” I cackle, my tired body crashing on the sofa.

“I swear I thought I was going to die all over again with the way you swung that mop.” I notice how his eyes bright dim at the mention of death. “Did you hide my earphones again?” Changing the subject, I place my hands on my hips. “I was so sure I'd left them on the table.” 

Guilty as ever, Ghost grins before scratching the side of his neck. “...no” Is his reply.

“Seriously? Do you know how annoying it is looking for things every five minutes.” Complaining I fling every cushion off the sofa before getting on my hands and knees and peering under it. “It's under your pillow.” He says. 

“Why hide it if you’re going to tell me?” I stand up patting my clothes.

“Should I go hide them again?” He whizzes past me, flying through the walls. With a prolonged  ‘NOOO’, I chase after him. Bursting through the bedroom door, I find Ghost smirking, hovering besides him, my new pair of earphones that I bought two days ago. “You know,” I change the subject, carefully approaching him. “I can't believe you can actually touch real life things!” This normally works. “To think the first time I saw you, your hand went straight through my phone!” 

He sighs knowing he’ll have to explain again to win me over. “It's not my fault. I can’t touch things. I can manipulate inanimate objects if I'm familiar with them. And by doing that I have to possess it. It's hard work and takes lots of practice. By ‘takes lots of practice’ I don't mean a few hours, I mean long pointless days of trying to move them. It was an accident I didn't mean to scare you!” He pouts his lips frowning. 

“HA!” Lurching forward, I grab the earphone from beside him passing through his body. He groans, his hand hovering over his stomach. “What's wrong?” I turn to him, taken aback. After doubling forward in what seems like agony, he lifts his head and sticks his tongue out.

Running a hand through my hair I sigh foolishly. I should have known he was just messing around. “So…” Ghost drags his words, lacing his fingers together. “What are you going to do now?” 

“Not much. I'm free.” My eyes find their way to the phone on my desk. Picking it up I wipe away the dust. Three girls. “What's up with you?” He floats over to me.  

“My sister moved out of the house and got her own apartment. Nevermind that, she's moved to a different town altogether.” I sit on the bed gazing at the faces of my two sisters. Me in the middle with my light brown, signature bun. My arm around the youngest, with her bob cut and two missing front teeth. On my left is or was at the time, my moody middle sister. With her arms across her chest, her lips pressed into thin lines. 

She's the one that's moved out. She's always been the distant quiet type. The youngest is still in highschool. The only one that lives with our parents. “Mum said I should talk to her. You know, being the oldest and all.”

“You’re lucky you have siblings,” Ghost glances out the window. “I don't remember anything about my life. Not even my name.” He normally doesn’t open up about himself so I let him talk. “I wonder what it feels like to have parents. Go to school, make friends. Be loved… I was all alone until you moved in. Well, apart from the lady that rents this place -- the one that always smells of cabbages.” His nose scrunches in disgust.

“Do you want to watc