A ghost story (FrUK)

Chapter two

Once I came to, I woke up on the floor of the basement. I lifted my watch to my face to check it. I had passed out the whole night through. It was about nine am. I shook my head for a bit and stood up. "It must have started seeing stuff after the travel," I laughed and walked up the steps to the inside of the main house.  My vision started to get blurry once more as I saw a silhouette sitting at the table.

"What?" I said out loud. The silhouette's head snapped to me. "Give him back," the silhouette cried. The figure stood up I now saw it was a young male. Maybe around eighteen or nineteen. "Give who back?" I asked the teenager.  This one did not look like the other figure I thought I did not see last night. I started to back up against the wall as the person got closer. Their translucent body made it easy to see through them when the light started to shine.

"I am just joking, do not pass out again," the person started to laugh as their features changed again. The person now looked like the one I saw last night. "Is this real?" I asked, horrified once more. "I scared you," the man started to laugh, pointing at me. For a while, I ignored him, passing by him to take a seat on a dusty chair.

"What are you?" I asked, confused. "If that was not obvious by now, then you are really stupid," he laughed at me again. "This can't be," I held my forehead, trying to get my brain to process things slowly. "I should not be able to see you, though," I said, confused. "I am as confused as you, good sir," the person suddenly got serious as they looked at me.

I have no idea what to think right now. "It is the first time in centuries since I spoke to someone," the man said sadly. I looked at him controlling my breath. "You are....dead?" I asked, confused. "Yes..." the man looked down sadly.

There was a sudden knock on the door that made me stand up quickly to get it. "I forgot about the movers," I said worriedly. I rushed to the door faster, opening it as that man followed behind me. "Hello, Mr.Kirkland, your things are here," the delivery man smiled, handing me a clipboard to sign. "Arthur? My name is Francis! Nice to meet you," I ignored the other voice. "Thank you, just set everything inside first," I told the movers, opening the door for them. The man signaled something to the other men, and they nodded, starting to get things out of the moving truck.

I turned to find that man, but he had disappeared somewhere. I forwarded my brows, looking around, but nothing. As the movers started to bring stuff in, they helped get the furniture upstairs outside of the rooms since I still needed to clean up a bit. I decided to start cleaning upstairs first so I could get all the furniture in the rooms for the very least.

~

"Sir, that is everything," the movers told me. "Very well, thank you so much" I smiled. I placed the broom and dustpan to the side as I watched the men leave the house. Now I will finally have some free time. I smiled as I turned on some music to play in the house.

I started dancing around the house to the music as I cleaned. "Everybody's got a hungry heart," I shouted, using the broom as a microphone. Music helped me get in the mood to start working. I was getting done very fast once I finished the cleaning. I was already rearranging furniture, organizing shelves, and getting the kitchen and dining room set up nicely.

"You are funny," I heard a voice that made me stop suddenly in my tracks—remembering the other "person" in the room. I turned to him, glaring so much. "Can't you do something else besides watching me," I spat angrily. "Like what? Go through walls? Usually, if you did not see me, I would be trying to mess with you right now. But it is no fun when you can," he started to pout.

"Listen, What was it? Francis?" I asked, lifting a brow. He nodded, smiling. "My name is Arthur since you will not be leaving. I suggest you give me some of my space and do whatever... you do," I looked at him, annoyed. "What do I do?" He asked, smiling. "I do not know; figure it out," I said, turning back to the kitchen to put some more things away. "Can't you be like other people and try doing something interesting?" he asked, making me slam a wooden board down.

"I am trying to finish moving in. I have no time right now to talk," I turned, looking at his translucent body. "Okay, fine," he said, slumping over. "I guess no one wants me anyway," he moped, making me stop to think about it. He was dead...and has been lonely for a long time.  Maybe I was too harsh; I am the first person he has spoken to In centuries. Plus.... he is dead and looks young. Who knows what happened to him?

"Fine! We can chat for a few minutes," I gave up walking to the living room to sit on the couch. "How fun!!!" He smiled, spinning a bit. He hovered over a sofa seat and looked at me as I crossed my arms. "Well?" I asked him. "Well?" He said, confused. "You wanted to talk! So what now?" I said with sass as he started to chuckle. "Right," he continued.
"Tell me about yourself," he asked, and I stood up walking away.

"Hey! You did not even answer," he cried. "That was the most generic thing you could have asked?" I turned to him, annoyed. "Well, what else am I supposed to ask?" He said, confused. I breathed out and walked back to the sofa seat. "I guess I will start it," I said, a bit worn out. He nodded and started to listen as I looked at him with a straight face.

"What happened to you?" I asked plainly

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Thanks for reading so far❤️ also they are speaking French. Just to put that out there