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“Mostly” GhostlyHave you ever had a really bad day? I mean a real shitfest!Where things go from bad to worse in the blink of an eye? First, I got fired. Then I got dumpedAnd last but certainly not least, I died!So to recap, Fired, Dumped, Dead…bummer!You might be asking yourself…”Jack, how does a moderately healthy guy just this side of Thirty die” Well “self” maybe next time you’ll unplug the toster before you try to pry out a Pillsbury Toaster Strudle with a butterknife…while high.So yeah I got zapped with 50,000 volts and died alone in my underwear and a Spice World T-shirt (it’s comfy…don’t judge!).The next thing I knew I was standing up looking down at myself. You really learn alot about life watching the smoke waft up from your burnt out eyesockets. The ultimate irony came when I tried to leave the apartment and found that I couldn’t. I hardly ever went out in life, why would death be any different. When my body was finally discovered I couldn’t even go with it (still don’t know what happened to it, hope it was a good funeral!)It didn’t really dawn on me that I was dead until they came to pack up my stuff. As I watched workmen pack up my most treasured belongings I couldn’t help but wonder where it would go. I found myself alone, in an empty apartment trying to find some way of keeping entertained. I’m not sure how much time passed before a new renter came around. I didn’t know what to expect until I saw her. Regan Brooks, my god was she stunning. Right off the bus from Omaha, a small town girl with dreams of becoming a Writer. At first blush Regan looked like any of a hundred small hiltonbet giriş town girls in the big city, a real deer in the headlights, but she eventually came into her own. Which made me feel bad about spying on her in the shower (but in my defense she’s got quite a body on her!). Not content with being just a fly on the wall I took to helping out around the house. little things at first, locking the door, turning the stove off, closing the window on cold nights. I found myself worrying about her when she wasn’t home when she was supposed to, and feeling stupid when she’d trudge in with sacks of Groceries. I was content to let things continue until the night of her Housewarming party. I found myself floating (quite literally) around the room casually eavesdropping on conversations and keeping an ear out for anything negative about my girl. The last thing I ever expected was a “Sensitive” to show up.Let me explain, a “Sensitive” is like the second rung of the Spiritualist ladder. It goes:Intuitive: 99.999% of the population are intuitive. When freaky things happen their hair stands up.Sensitive: More advances than Intuitives, can actively feel a spiritual presence. Medium: The Full on Jennifer Love Hewett (RAWR!!), can see and talk to the dearly departed aka yours truly. And how did this blabbermouth break the news to my Roomie. “Hey Regan, now don’t freak out…but you have a ghost.” NOPE”Regan have you ever seen ‘Ghost’ with Patrick Swayze?” NOPE!”Did you know your place is haunted?” BINGO!!!!At first everything seemed fine but little by little I noticed a change. She’d hiltonbet yeni giriş be cautious when entering a room, more alert to her environment. I even had to dial back my helpfulness for fear she might freak out and run off screaming into the night. A few months went by without incident and I thought I was in the clear until one day a package was waiting for her when she came home. She was all smiles as she slashed open the brown shipping box after pulling out a ton a those styrofoam packing peanuts she produced a smaller box. Plastered on the sides and top was “Ghost-Gabber” written in a most ridiculous green font. There was even a crudely drawn ghost floating next to a photo of the Gabber unit.Regan pulled the machine from the box and plugged it into a nearby wall socket. She read the instructions aloud and followed them exactly. 1. Plug in Unit2. Turn on Unit3. Let Unit build up charge4. Sit back and get ready to meet your GhostI found myself feeling sorry for the girl. Like perhaps it was my fault that she had gone off the deep end. That’s when I felt it, an odd pulsing sensation. Almost like a twitching nerve in your leg. But since I didn’t really have a leg anymore I knew it was something else. I looked at the Ghost-Gabber and saw it was radiating some form of energy. Regan couldn’t see it but I sure as heck did. The more the Machine pulsed the more I could feel it coursing through my “body” aka my human form Ectoplasmic Matrix. After an hour Regan switched it off, that’s when I saw her do something she had never done before, doubt herself. “This is Crazy!” hiltonbet güvenilirmi she said with a sigh. “I’m crazy!” Seeing her in pain would’ve broken my heart if I had one. Without thinking I spoke.”No, no you’re not.” She stopped in her tracks and spun on her heels.”Who said that?” she asked. “I did.” I replied. “Where are you?” she asked. “Over here…can’t you see me?” I said waving my hand. “No, not a thing.” I looked around and found a Magazine on the sidetable, using all of my will I made the pages flutter. “I see that…do it again!” she said. “I’d like to, but I feel whipped out.” I said “Maybe if I turn this back on.” she said switching the Gabber back on. Like before I felt the soft tingle of pure energy bombarding me. “Is that doing anything?” she asked. “Sort of.” “Hey wait there’s a dial on the side, I have it set on low. I wonder what happens if I set it to high.” Regan turned the knob and the lights dipped. The Machine began to drone loudly as wave after wave of pulsing green energy eminated outward. Every electric lightbulb in the place instantly burned out bathing the place in total darkness. Regan fumbled around in the dark looking for a flashlight when she found it she began to shine the beam around the room until it fell upon me. “Uhh…hi.” I said unsure if she could see me. “I knew it!” she said with a smile. “Oh good you can see me…you can see me, right?” “Yes, yes I can”. she said with a smirk. After replacing every burnt lightbulb we got to talking. “What’s your name?” “Jack C. Wilkes.” “What’s the ‘C’ stand for?” “You’re gonna laugh.” “No I wont.” “I’m fairly sure you will, it’s ‘Casper'”. I said “Wait…you’re a Ghost who’s name is Casper?” “Middle man, and yes it is.” The more we talked, the more we got to know about each other. By the break of dawn we were like old pals.This is where we must part for now dear reader, but fret not my story continues.
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