A Penny For My Thoughts ~ phan

XX

Dan

No one is more annoyed than I am at this moment. I kinda, no, I really wish I hadn't gotten into the car in the first place. I thought just maybe, with my newfound level of bliss thanks to Phil and Persimmon, that my luck would last a little longer. Surely, the contentment I had felt in their presence would be strong enough to pull me through many more difficult days. I guess I was wrong.

Although, I wasn't entirely wrong. When at Phil's house, I managed to sit through three whole episodes of the anime before the pain got to be too unbearable. One could even argue that my eventual departure hurt just enough more, I think.

And exactly like on that day, I must be going on an hour of sitting on a cushiony yet unforgivingly solid seat. Except today, all I have to cheer me on is the idea that I will get to drive once more, an idea my lazy self is smitten with. Just not smitten enough to consider waiting out the agony for approximately twenty-two more minutes, not including the various commercial breaks. Which were definitely real advertisements shown on the screen and not myself wondering how much I would have to pay to feel Phil's smooth cheeks on my fingertips.

Now, I'm just about ready to give up. And frankly, I think I have a right to. Yeah, that's what I'll keep telling myself when I'm in need of a pity party.

But first, I'll try one more time. I succeeded in getting my key into the ignition so all I have to do is turn it. Besides, in the movies it's always the very last moment before the character is sure to burst into tears when the triumph breaks through. No one needs to know that my body has already been shaken with quite a bit of empty sobs.

Recovering from one particularly rough explosion in my tear ducts and frail insides, I don't waste any time in reaching for the key just this once more. My fingers are just a centimeter away from victory when a chirpy voice pops my bubble of concentration, my bubble of vulnerability for that matter.

"Hello!"

I swear if I wasn't already dead, my soul would be leaping out of my body right about now. What is this madness? Aren't ghosts supposed to be the ones scaring humans and not the other way around? At least, the figure beside me sure looks like a human. Then again, so do I.

Their hair is cut in a short, pink bob with dewy lips to match. With eyeliner as precise as you can get and green-gray eyes as clear as untouched paint, I contemplate whether the marvel in front of me is actually a robot.

Well, all I know is that it's impolite to leave them hanging either way.

"Hi?"

"You're Dan Howell."

If it wasn't for this spontaneous creature appearing in my car without so much as a pin dropping amount of noise, I would currently be a lot more surprised by their statement. Okay, maybe just a little bit more.

"Eh..."

"Don't even try to lie," they demand, an instant feeling of tiny pricks of fear gathering in my brain. "I know you never had a twin named Bellamy. And I also know that you're a ghost."

I shudder. I wait. That's all I can do.

"I know because I'm one, too. My name's Tessa Violet, she/her, and I have a lot to teach you."

¢¢¢¢¢¢¢

There's a ghost at my house. A ghost who isn't me. I didn't think I was doing that pathetic of a job keeping my cool and learning the ins and outs of the afterlife but it seems the universe has made other assumptions. And although I'm beyond grateful for the leg up, I can't help but be a tad disappointed. Tucked away in my imagination, there always loitered the designated Ultimate Wise One complete with a swishy beard and as many under eye bags as life lessons building up in their mind.