𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓

Party Gone Wrong

Y/n sat upright as quickly as she could. She glanced around, trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle that she didn't remember. She felt detached, almost like if she was sick, or existing merely as a cloud, carrying no purpose except to float through time. She tried to stand, but stumbled. She was on grass, that was for sure, and she ran through her memory, hoping to recall something that could help her understand, and soon, bits starting coming back.

She was at a Halloween party. She was with her friends, and they dared her to dress in the typical white sheet ghost, so she did. Two of her three friends were dancing with their boyfriends, and another was with Y/n. Someone had paid the owner of the house a healthy sum of money to have their party here. Two men had come up to talk to her and her friend, and after a while, Y/n started to feel drowsy and left, but fell. And now she was here. She couldn't have been drunk, she just had water.

When Y/n finally stood, she looked down and her face dropped. Her body lay on the ground, and her friends ran up to her, pulling off the sheet and checking her pulse, finding none. Her best friend, Stella sobbed into her hands and the wailing of sirens was quickly approaching. She started breathing heavily and backed away from the scene as more people appeared around her body. As she retreated, she bumped into something and stumbled. Spinning around, she glanced up and saw a tall, buff man with a beard dressed as a viking.

Y/n let out a scream at the sudden appearance of the man, and others behind him. A girl with long, dark brown hair and glasses screamed as well, and Y/n screamed again.

"Okay, that's enough screaming, calm down," a woman with red hair in a turquoise dress said, taking a step forward.

"Who are you? What's going on?" Y/n asked in a panic.

"Long story short, you're dead," the redhead replied.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, not that they could see due to her ghost costume. "I'm sorry? Yeah, make fun of the one dressed as a ghost, ha ha, very funny."

"No, we actually mean it. You're dead. We are all ghosts," Glasses added, playing with a piece of her hair.

"You're ghosts? Prove it."

"My dear, simply go up to your friends and try to talk to them. You'll see what we mean," a man in a Revolutionary war outfit instructed.

Confused, Y/n turned and looked at Stella, who was still crying. "Stella!" she yelled. No response. "Stella!"

"See what we mean?"

"Okay... I'm a ghost. I'm dead. Why didn't I go to Heaven or something?" she inquired.

"We don't know. Maybe you have unfinished business. Maybe we all do," a sharply dressed man told her. Only issue with his attire was that he had absolutely no pants.

"Okay... okay..." Y/n breathed deeply, hoping to calm herself down. She knew this feeling, but didn't know that ghosts could get them. She thought the panic attacks would stop if she was dead. Apparently not. She felt like she was suffocating, and the sheet didn't help. She reached up and tore the fabric off her head, letting it drop to the grass and attempted to calm her breathing. The group of ghosts gasped and Y/n looked over at them. "What?"

"How did you do that?"

Y/n tilted her head at the posh woman. "Do what?"

"If we try and remove any article of clothing, we can't, but you were able to remove the sheet and it hasn't returned."

"Okay? So? That shouldn't be an issue right now, I'm extremely scared and disoriented and on the verge of a panic attack, so can I get a minute please?" Y/n asked, stepping away and taking deep breaths, calming her breathing and relaxing herself. For about three minutes, no one spoke, and then she stepped back over to them. "Okay, if I'm going to be a ghost for who knows how long, I might as well introduce myself. Hi. I'm Y/n."