The Ghost that wouldn't leave me alone.

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Six Million Dollar Man

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Harry Foreman was still asleep on a sunny summer morning. His entire body was covered by a blanket, as he poked his tired head and its tired little eyes, medium length brown hair and frown from under the covers to see nothing but the still darkened room. He had received absolutely no sleep the other night, having went to bed at about 12:00AM.

Of course this was because he was up late trying to avoid the ghost which was outside his home. Though he wasn't sure where she went. Apparently she was attempting to enact some urban legend, like maybe if he rated her on her appearance, she'd yank out a tooth or something-- But wait. She failed. Just as she was about to speak, the bus had arrived, and Harry had climbed on, having ignored the ghost girl entity due to the fact his boss would probably have roasted him over an open fire if he didn't show up with a presentation for a client company. Oh, what drudgery life at the office was...
 
The young ghost, Rita, flew around the man's house. Her long white hair and light blue eyes gave her the appearance of a dead person already. Her long hospital dress gave some hint to how she died. She waited for him to come out so she could try again. She'd keep trying until the man left. If she was going to continue to be remembered then she had to continue with the legend, no matter how stupid she thought it was.
 
Harry's stomach grumbled for a moment. It seemed he was in dire need of sustenance, and the only means of doing so was to traverse the maze that was his humble home. He poked his head out the door to watch her enter one of the other upstairs rooms, before making like a madman for his kitchen to grab the doughnuts he'd bought the other night, and perhaps grab the iced coffee in his fridge. Unfortunately he tripped and fell, landing clumsily near his dog. Now, it wasn't so much just the ghost that bothered him; his dog wouldn't stop barking at her, and whenever she'd try to scare/kill/etc, anything that really required her to come near the dog, the little bugger seemed to move incredibly fast, almost as if it disappeared from sight.

He looked up to the stairs. No response yet, so he hurried over to the fridge, finding his doughnuts, but realizing the coffee cup had been emptied. But what villain could have performed such a dastardly feat?...

The problematic poltergeist, no doubt.

And then he hauled ass towards the bathroom, locking the door and hoping she wouldn't find him.
 
"Your bathroom is really dirty." She said, looking around the bathroom. "Prison bathrooms are cleaner than this." Rita floated around, waiting for him in his bathroom. They always hid in the bathroom. She broke the lock after he walked in so he couldn't get out. Not unless he broke the door down.
 
"HOLY FUCKERY!!" Screeched Harry. "Not cool. NOT COOL AT ALL, MAN."

He gestured for her to stop, before starting to undo his pants, and pull the seat cover down, the sudden appearance of the spectre causing something to rage deep within his bowels.

"Don't look at me!"
 
"Like I want to look at you." Rita said, turning around. "You're the one who blew me the fuck off and didn't even let me ask my question!" She crossed her arms across her chest, visibly annoyed.
 
"Excuse me? I am presently in possession of a body that's freshly graduated college and managed a decent job, surviving on a diet of cheap foods that should have killed me years ago." responded an annoyed Harry. "And hey, totally appreciate you not looking, but if you could kindly leave-- I need to take a shower."

As soon as he was done, he cleaned himself up and proceeded to work on taking his shirt off.

"You want me to bring you anything back? I'm going out for groceries!" He suddenly asked. He assumed that in her futile mission she would probably never actually gotten him with the stupid legend, whatever it was she did to people.
 
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Rita sighed. "You know what? Fuck the living! So I'll be forever left alone with no one to remember me and I'll never be able to move on, but it's better than trying to scare you when obviously you can't be scared!" She flew out of the room, fixing the lock as she went. She curled up in the attic of the home, obviously not happy.
 
Okay. He couldn't exactly tell why, but he felt like an incredibly oversized giant douchebag asshole who had achieved Maximum Overdrive. So he figured he'd return with a doughnut or something for her. But right now, he had to get himself the groceries. After a nice quick shower which consisted mostly of him turning to look over his shoulder every minute was very bothersome, he managed to dress himself properly afterwards, and happily exited the house.

Meanwhile, a growl came from the shadows of the attic. It was the dog, Qubert. He didn't like the spiritual presence being in the attic. a few mice also skittered about, as the dog prepared for a loud, and painful bark. While peaceful to Harry and whoever else it came to like (which literally include only Harry and the pizza guy who usually delivered here) it would unleash a most annoying sound.
 
"Calm down, Fido. I'd leave if I could." Rita said, staring emptily out of the house. She had her knees pulled to her chest and her hair fell around her face. If it weren't for her transparency and slight glow, she would have looked like a normal college student. She sighed as she looked at the dog and tilted her head.
 
Qubert groaned, and scurried past the ghost towards his spot in the kitchen. He had grown used to annoying the ghost lady, but she seemed to be unhappy.

Shortly afterwards, Harry returned. He put his groceries on the table, and put most of it away, save for the chocolate he took along, attaching a hasty sticky note adressed to 'the ghost' onto the sweets and running off to watch TV in the dark, an action movie that was coming on this afternoon.

"Hahaha." He chuckled at the cheesy film's poor effects, Qubert sauntering over and being taken up beside Harry.
 
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Rita stayed up in the attack, pretending to hang herself. Anything would be better than just living like this. She wasn't even 'living'. She was a ghost. She was suppose to be hated and banished to hell. This almost seemed like hell to her. Constantly in pain and forced to be seen by a select few. She sighed and continued to pretend hang herself. It was at least a little bit fun.
 
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