It was four in the morning when she woke me.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153They\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re there. They wont go away. They\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re so mournful and sad.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Turns out two Edwardian chics were standing in the corner of her room. Crying alot. She could feel their pain. It was killing her. I asked if she was on crack and handed her the bottle of scotch I kept under my bed. She drank it and fell asleep in the floor. The next morning she explained.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Blah blah blah. I see dead people. Blah blah blah. \u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
I was late for class and didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t care. My flatmate was a flake and I knew it. But I still had to ask.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What? Like that kid in Sixth Sense?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I wont have you belittling my kind.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She said it like she was serious.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Your kind? What are you, a wookie or something?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I was just kidding. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m just kidding.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
She didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t think it was funny and left.<\/p>\n
Two nights later, pretty much the same thing. She tore the front door open, half-ran-half-crawled up the stairs, and started tearing her room apart. This time it was a kid from the seventies. Dead as a doornail, just like the girls in her room. Followed her around all day.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153My crystals! I need my crystals! I cant take this anymore. I have to seal my aura!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
I should have ignored her. She was pretty insane that night. But she was making a mess of her room and I cant stand when people do that. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s like on Sweet Home Alabama, when Dempsey covers Witherspoon\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s apartment with rose petals. She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s looking all happy and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m like \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou know you have to clean that up, right\u00e2\u20ac\u2122. So I couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t just stand by without a word.<\/p>\n
Here\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s me being clever. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You ever think maybe they just need your help. You know. Like in the movie.”<\/p>\n
She screamed at me. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Thats not how it works! Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t you know anything at all!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153OK.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Here\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s me being cleverer<\/em>. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Maybe they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re just after you. You know. Like to GET<\/em> you.”<\/p>\n I made a face when I said it. She passed out. Cold.<\/p>\n Her father collected her later that night. Took her home to their 500 year old manor house where the ghosts were more docile. She came back on Saturday to apologise. Off to Tibet. Something about ancient temples and finding her place in the universe. She would see me in a month. In the meantime she was sorry. She didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t mean to cause upset. I told her it was ok. I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t care about her fits or her ghosts. As long as they stayed out of my room.<\/p>\n I really didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Nov 05 It was four in the morning when she woke me. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153They\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re there. They wont go away. They\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re so mournful and sad.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Turns out two Edwardian chics were standing in the corner of her room. Crying alot. She could feel their pain. It was killing her. I asked if she was on crack and<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-196","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-hum-drum"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/196","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=196"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/196\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=196"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=196"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=196"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}