You wanted me gone, but now you’re the one leaving.
You’re headlong packing your things. What about my things…where’d you put my things? Have they been tossed already? Burned or buried? I suppose it really doesn’t matter.
You’re so sure this is what you need, that this plan is going to work. You’re so sure that you can just pack it all up and leave it behind. You’re certainly not in any kind of rush from what I can see. You think you can just go. Just leave.
That’s almost hilarious.
Almost.
But what you don’t understand about ghosts or rather spirits in general could fill volumes. You weren’t thinking about it when you were plotting how to kill me in the basement. You weren’t thinking about this when I got down there and saw the hole in the concrete floor. How you bashed me in the back of my head and threw me in that hole. I wake up with you pouring concrete over the bulk of my body but left my head uncovered so you could talk to me. So you could watch me vanish under cold concrete.
Thanks for that by the way.
You can go wherever you want, but you have no idea how any of this works. What you don’t see is that it’s not where you die. It’s how you die.
And I died angry.
You think I’m some poltergeist breaking dishes and slamming doors? I’m not haunting the house.
I’m haunting you.
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