The Things Unseen

Tea For Too Many

When the sun rose, John didn't have to get up. It was a nice change from during the school week, when he had to drag himself out of bed before the first morning rays even touched down. John's eyes went to the closet, where it seemed to be undisturbed. No ghostly activity, at least not yet. He lay in his bed until about nine o'clock, but the promise of some paranormal visitor was just too exciting to sit out.
"Good morning." he mumbled, quiet enough that his parents or Harry wouldn't notice. There was no response, but John decided that the ghost was just being shy. Maybe he was still asleep, if ghosts even did sleep. He nervously examined the space in the bed next to him, but it was also undisturbed, the pillow just as fluffed as he had left it, no dent in the blankets or anything. No paranormal activity to be accounted for. So John got up and only pulled a sweat shirt over top of his pajama shirt, stumbling down the stairs, still heavy with sleep, and took a seat at the stool.
"Good morning John." Mrs. Watson said happily, walking through the kitchen just to get to the sunroom, where his dad was already arranging the plywood.
"Is it the flooring party?" John sighed.
"It certainly is!" his father yelled excitedly, holding up four hammers.
"How fun." John sighed.
"Breakfast is on your own today." Mrs. Watson insisted.
"That's fine." John assured, sliding off of his stool now that his personal service was unavailable, and pouring himself a large bowl of cereal. Harry's bedroom door was still closed when he came back up, which was odd, because John didn't even remember her coming home last night. He went back up to his room, where it was as empty as ever, and shut the door. John sighed, but he knew that he was going to half to change if they were all doing the flooring. So that meant another extremely necessary trip to the bathroom to change his clothes. John sighed, opening the closet door, and had to put his hand over his mouth to stop from screaming.
"Hello John." said that misty, far away deep voice, even though the glowing spirit was standing directly in front of the door.
"God, don't scare me like that." John insisted.
"You're scared of me?" Sherlock asked, backing up farther into the closet.
"No, I'm not scared; you just surprised me is all." John assured.
"Oh, okay." he muttered.
"You're still here then?" John asked.
"Where have I to go?" Sherlock pointed out. John couldn't help feeling a little bit creeped out as he saw the shimmering mirage of a boy standing in the back of the closet.
"I don't know, somewhere where I'm not changing?" John asked.
"You're not changing." He insisted.
"I will be soon." John pointed out.
"Oh." Sherlock mumbled. The hairs on the back of John's neck raised as he saw the figure inch closer to him.
"Alright." John said finally, taking a giant step back from the ghost that was literally a foot away from him. Sherlock looked a bit confused, insulted even, but John didn't really know if ghosts had feelings. They might be able to display it on their faces, but they didn't have a brain to process emotions like insult. "Ground rules, if we're going to share this place. First of all, you need to leave when I'm changing, or showering, or going to the bathroom, or anything that involves public nudity." John decided. It ghosts could blush, he was sure this one would have been.
"I'm not going to watch you like that..." he defended, sounding like a child that had been wrongly accused.
"Just making sure. Second, you cannot share the bed with me." John decided. Sherlock looked down in shame, but obviously he didn't have a suitable argument for that one. "And lastly, don't attack me, or touch me, or attack my friends, or mess up the house, or attack my family, or scare people..."
"I'm not an aggressive spirit." Sherlock interrupted.
"Tell that to Henry." John pointed out.
"He had it coming, he was going to touch the letters, that other boy, Graham or whatever, he was a stretch, but obviously you trusted him enough. This Henry kid though, you could see the obsession on his face, he might've ripped those things apart just to prove that I would come out and defend them!" Sherlock insisted.
"You defended them anyway." John sighed.
"You're very stubborn." Sherlock decided.
"You're very, undead." John mumbled.
"That's not an insult." Sherlock pointed out.
"Oh shut up, I'm working on it!" John sighed, grabbing junk jeans and an old tee shirt from the closet.
"I'm guessing you want me to leave." Sherlock decided.
"Yes, and I mean leave, not just turn invisible." John pointed out. "You know what, stay in here, and I'll be out in the room. And no X-ray ghost vision!"
"You think very lowly of me." Sherlock decided. "And I don't have X-ray vision."
"Sorry I didn't know that. All the other ghosts I've met did." John snapped.