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The stuffed bear thumped its way across the bed to wait for Beca at the foot so she’d see it right when she walked in. A disembodied giggle emanated from the bear. Beca should be home at any time.
Beca unlocked her apartment door and then tossed the mail and her keys on the table by the door. She unslung her messenger bag from her shoulder and dropped it on a living room chair. She had her headphones on and was jamming to the latest mix she’d made for Chloe to listen to.
After pouring herself a glass of milk, Beca danced her way upstairs, singing as she went along. Her eyes were shut as she put her hand on the doorknob to her room. She twisted the handle and flung open the door with a dramatic flair. She let out a shriek when she opened her eyes, dropping her milk, which splattered everywhere. Beca ripped off her headphones.
“CAN YOU NOT POSSESS DOLLS! PLEASE! IT’S NOT FUNNY, AND IT’S JUST A DICK MOVE AND SCARES THE HECK OUT OF ME EVERY TIME!” The bear gave another giggle and fell over on its back.
“Chloe,” Beca whined. “Come on. We’ve talked about this.” Beca froze for a few moments before shuddering. She spun around and yelled down the hallway. “DAMN IT! And stop walking through me! It’s the weirdest shit ever and makes my intestines all cold, and you start vibrating and shit. It’s just uncomfortable.”
By the time Beca got a towel to clean up the spilled milk and moved Chloe’s favorite stuffed bear back to where it belonged by her pillow, she was mentally drained. Sometimes having a ghost for a girlfriend sucked.