I lived in a haunted house with four other people. We were cozy and good friends. However, the house had the tendency to attract the odd spirit or two or four. I lost count. For the most part they never bothered me. They loved to chill with our pet rabbits and would occasionally sing to them.
But they loved to mess with one roommate. Adam. Poor Adam. That guy would see every ghost and every disembodied ghost that could be imagined or explained. He once saw a ghost at the end of the hall that turned out to be a shadow of a broken oscillating fan. He thought it had been me.
Adam decided that to stay at home while the rest of us went out. Five hours later, upon returning we saw all of the lights on. I was instantly suspicious of some bad juju going on. When we entered the house, Adam was clutching his AK-47. He rushed to us and said, “oh thank god you’re home.”
“What’s going on?” I asked him as I failed to wipe the confusion off my face.
“I heard footsteps and things moving and voices!” He gripped his rifle a bit tighter. “It was so loud!”
“I understand it can freak you out,” I started. “But why do you have the gun? I mean, it’s not going to do anything.”
“I know! It makes me feel better!” He cried. I couldn’t help but to laugh. It was at that point I understood why ghosts stuck around annoying people like Adam. If I knew that I had an all you can eat buffet of pranking waiting for me at the end of my life, I’d start writing my list now!
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