Grace stumbled into the dark bedroom, shutting the door behind her and fell face down onto the bed. The rumpled sheets twisted around her body as she leaned to her side and scrunched into the fetal position. As she was beginning to drift off, her bedroom door creaked open at an eerily slow pace.
“Not now,” said Grace, her voice half muffled from the pillow. After a moment of quiet, the door began to creak again. “Not now ghost. I'm not in the mood,” she repeated a little louder and a little less muffled.
“Oh,” said a disembodied voice coming from the doorway.
“Sorry. I just had a long day and I'm really tired,” she said.
“I just thought-“
Grace interrupted, “I promise you can haunt me tomorrow night. You can drop the temperature down a few degrees and whisper some innocuous or semi-threating statements in my ear.”
Another brief moment of quiet lingered. “Promise?” asked the voice.
“Promise. Maybe I’ll even let you break something,” she added.
“Really?” asked the voice with enthusiastic surprise.
“Sure, just nothing too expensive,” she replied wearily. “Goodnight ghost.”
“Goodnight,” whispered the voice. The door creaked slowly again, ending with a metal click of the latch. Grace fell into a deep sleep filled with happy dreams of strangling her boss, moving to someplace in Europe with no extradition laws, and hugging kittens.